


The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (Is When I'm Alone With You)

by ButMakeItGay



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Dark, Demons, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Murder, Smut, Violence, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 60,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButMakeItGay/pseuds/ButMakeItGay
Summary: So what if Lexa's skin always had a slight glow to it, the kind that made her seem young and bright, yet effortlessly timeless all at once? Who cared if the pencil skirts she wore hugged the curve of her hips in ways that made Clarke rethink every item in her wardrobe? Or if suits looked just as sinfully good on her trim frame, always complete with tight fitting vests that managed to accentuate the lushness of her deceptively round and full assets…None of that mattered.Lexa couldn't be trusted./////////////////////////////////////Demon!Lexa AU where Clarke rides a fine line between wanting to tear her coworker limb from limb, and simply wanting to tear her clothes off.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 321
Kudos: 942





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> READ THIS!
> 
> I'm going to start this by reiterating, Lexa is a demon. Again, Lexa is a demon. There are going to be dark themes in this, religious themes, violence, references to extremely unsavory things (though nothing explicit in that sense, but I will still put trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters when applicable just in case). 
> 
> This is meant to be a fun, cracky, smut fest even with those warnings, so please, don't take it too seriously. This is simply a vehicle for dark Clexa Sexa.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta for making this readable and the heathens 100hearteyes, dreamsaremywords, and slowmorevolution for bullying (or encouraging, whatever) me into writing it and listening to my ramblings. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please don't be mean to me, it's my birthday.

"Pray for me, Clarke."

A moan ripped through her at the whispered words, hot breath curling over her ear as two fingers messily teased at her clit. Her nails scraped uselessly at the veneer of the desk she was bent over, clinging to the last dregs of control when teeth nipped smartly at overheated skin.

"C'mon, gorgeous," that silken voice wrapped around her again, feeling hips press against her and slowly begin to grind into her upturned backside. "Pray."

 _"Please,"_ Clarke whined as her legs trembled and she felt herself spread open. A muffled rustling sound of fabric caught her attention, her brain barely registering it before the hem of her skirt was shoved up and over the swell of her ass.

"Please, what?" 

A groan clawed at her throat, Clarke rolling her eyes as she pictured the smirk she could feel painting the arrogant demands. Fingers froze at Clarke's lack of following directions and held steady against the pounding in her clit, gentle pulses of pressure doing little more than driving Clarke out of her skin. Gritting her teeth at the teasing touch, so far from what she needed at the moment, Clarke grunted with a breathy moan and canted her hips in encouragement. 

"Please," she husked again, rubbing as best as she could against the hand still cupping her from behind. "Inside me. I can't come without you."

"Mmm, good girl."

A hum vibrated through her chest as the warm body draped along the bend of her spine, Clarke sucking in a breath at the feel of wet heat sliding against the reddened skin of her ass.

 _Fucking Lexa,_ she thought, realizing the woman's intention of how she planned on getting herself off. 

The sharp sting of teeth over the dip of her shoulder sent a dizzying throb through her core, a thrill of dread and lust coloring the apples of her cheeks. "Accept me into you, Clarke," Lexa panted behind her, fingers plunging inside of her as another hand firmly held her in place. 

A strangle yelp choked her throat as she felt pleasure spark through her veins, hips lurching and rolling as she felt Lexa's arousal spread over her ass cheek. The air around them grew thick with panted breaths, punctuated with the shlicking symphony of Lexa's relentless fucking. Obscene sounds of skin on skin mixed with the heady smell of sex, hips jogged and painted Clarke with sin as Lexa rolled her clit in desperate grinds. Clarke jolted and groaned with the rough handling of her body; each touch, each hold, each pump of delicately ravishing fingers just this side of bruising. 

A hazy glow hung in the workings of her periphery, a shimmery unraveling just off the edges of her vision, matching the churning in her belly that told her she was being fucked exactly how she wanted to be fucked. 

No matter how many days she had spent telling herself otherwise. 

The pad of Lexa's thumb bumping the underside of her clit pulled a shout from Clarke's lungs, breath fogging the immaculate dark stain of the desk beneath her. 

_"Good, Clarke,"_ Clarke felt more than heard, the vibrations of a purr rippling over her skin with each word. "Let everyone hear how hard you come for me."

And it was perverse in how desperately Clarke wanted to do exactly that, deliciously uncaring of who outside the large office could hear her shouts of pleasure. The image gripped tight and sat low in her belly as her body clenched around slim fingers driving into her, burning with the thought of their coworkers knowing she was being ruthlessly fucked in the boss's office on company time. 

"Come." The growled words ripped through her with a sharp throb. _"Now."_

Fingers hooked on a wicked thrust hurtling Clarke forward, a shout dying on her tongue as blue snapped open. 

Blinking rapidly up at the stucco ceiling of her bedroom, eyes seeing the sunlight dusted walls of her room instead of the rich woodgrain of an opulent office desk, Clarke's chest heaved in panted breaths as she took in her surroundings. Fingers relaxed from the sweaty sheets she had been clutching in her sleep, moving to rub roughly at the residual lust clinging behind her eyes. 

"Fuckin' hell," she groaned into the empty room, arms flopping uselessly at her sides as she struggled to steady herself. Her thighs ached with the echo of her nighttime escapades, skin slippery and slick with perspiration and an obscene amount of arousal. A moan caught in her throat as she instinctually squeezed them together for relief, her sex pulsing with the vestiges of unanswered need. 

And it was really, _really,_ starting to piss her off. 

Throwing the blanket off of her in a disgruntled flourish, it's material damp and stiflingly hot on her still overheated body, Clarke rolled over and sat up to look at the clock on her nightstand. 6:56 a.m. stared uselessly back. She slapped her hand over the alarm button with more malice than was strictly called for, despite its taunting reminder of the cause of her unnecessary early rising. 

"Every time," she groaned, dragging herself to her feet and making her way into the bathroom. 

Five fucking days. 

It had been five whole damn days since she'd been able to have a decent night's rest, every morning waking up drenched in sweat and… certain other things. Five days of being wound up so tightly she felt like she was going to snap, her emotional state yo-yoing between sexual ticking time bomb and a simmering ball of rage.

Every night was becoming the same, followed by a day spent quelling a wildly rebelling libido, thoughts creeping across her mind at the most inopportune times. 

And in the most inopportune of company.

Turning the shower on to full blast, and tweaking the cold tap far further than the hot, Clarke peeled off her sodden sleep shirt and even worse-for-the-wear soaked underwear. Snarling in annoyance, she balled them up and practically slammed them into the hamper before yanking open the shower curtain and stepping inside. 

She scrubbed at her hair, at her skin and her face, trying desperately and fruitlessly to wash away the stain of her dreams. 

It wasn't the dreams themselves that were an issue, though the growing frustration roiling low in her gut was becoming harder and harder to ignore. The problem lay with the ghost of lithe fingers and lips softer than silk, the whisper feeling of them in her waking hours a sensation she was more than keen to wash off. Because they were everywhere, all over her; every suckle and every grip. 

Pressing her thighs together again, she could almost still feel the stretch of them inside.

Her clit gave a painful twitch at the thought, at the phantom memory of being bent over and taken so thoroughly. And honestly, if it were anyone else, that'd all be well and good.

Except it wasn't just anyone else. 

It was always goddamn Lexa.

Alexandria D'Angelo, the ever present pain in Clarke's ass and head of the legal defense division at her work. 

Charismatic and brilliant, she was everything the company could ask for in every litigious aspect; but more importantly, in Clarke's opinion, she was the deeply embedded thorn now permanently stuck in Clarke's side. 

Despite being the most inexplicably doted over employee in the entire office.

Clarke had enjoyed her previously quiet life of solitude, an easy and uncomplicated routine coloring her days. It was simple, if not a little lonely, but better than the alternative in her eyes, the liberating feeling of general anonymity being more than fine with her. 

She thought longingly of dreamless nights that faded into the rush of mundane mornings, comfortingly predictable days and the even more banal feel of her evenings. It was quiet, and she was fine with that. She liked knowing exactly how each day would play out. 

And then Lexa happened. 

And every single thing around her changed. 

And Clarke, for as much as she prided herself on her calm and rational approach to things, just couldn't fucking get it. 

She could not, for one second, understand the big deal everyone made over that woman. Couldn't understand how no one felt what she felt. How people practically melted whenever Lexa would saunter through the office as she moved from one meeting to the next, a swagger to her steps exuding a confidence that often left Clarke white-knuckling her grip on whatever happened to be in her hands. 

Yes, Clarke could admit Lexa was objectively attractive. In an obnoxiously obvious sort of way… if you were into that kind of thing. 

Clarke shook her head while snapping the lid shut on her conditioner with a huff and willed the thrum of arousal to wash away with spent lilac suds, reminding herself that the _point_ was there was something about Lexa that sent every alarm bell within her chiming. 

She was just… perfect. 

And that was entirely the problem. 

Or at least that was what Clarke had finally settled on after endlessly scrutinizing the woman's every interaction. Because while everyone else fawned and fell over themselves at the new hire who'd rolled through the company like a storm, Clarke had sat quietly and observed from her desk, taking in everything one observation at a time. 

It was everything, and still nothing Clarke could explicitly define, yet the sum of all things Lexa being enough to set Clarke's teeth on edge.

None of it sat right with her. _Lexa_ never sat right with her; how she so seamlessly situated herself as the office 'favorite' while doing so little to actually earn it. The woman was so brash and verbose in her opinions within her department, often overruling seasoned veterans within the practice with little more than a lazy raise of her hand. Forever toeing the line between harmless and shameless, her incessant flirtations with the fairer femme population of their floor grew a sour pit in the depths of Clarke's stomach.

And it was infuriating, beyond enraging, how Clarke seemed to be the only one who noticed.

  
  


/////////////////////

"Good Morning."

"Is it?"

"Ouch," Raven said, frowning over at Clarke as she slipped into her seat. "Bad night?"

Clarke sighed as she clicked to send off her first email of the day, leaning back as she watched her desk mate settle in for work. "No… Well, yeah. I guess. Just woke up in a mood."

"Uh oh," Raven teased and pulled a face. "Should I hide for the day? Do all my scheduling from my phone in the bathroom?"

"Shut up," Clarke laughed, already feeling lighter with two cups of coffee and a brisk walk to work already under her belt. 

And Raven always tended to brighten her mood as well. 

When the fledgling legal practice they worked for had _finally_ started gaining financial ground, Clarke had worried a bit when they'd moved into the new office. It was intimidating on her first day, in its towering industrial mystique, more streamlined and less budding startup than she was generally accustomed to. But more than that, a feeling of dread had overcome her when she'd seen the few sets of paired up desks she'd been assigned to report to the following week. 

It wasn't that she was averse to working as part of a team, though she couldn't exactly pretend to be one who generally played well with others, her fear had been more of the decidedly close-working-quarters variety. 

So the weekend after being notified of her impending new coworker was diligently spent envisioning a myriad of possible professional clashes. Clarke had been so sure she'd hate every second of working not two feet away from whoever 'Raven Reyes-Woods' was, imagining a prissy little _someone_ who'd drive her up the wall.

Suffice it to say when her new desk mate had walked in and plopped down at her assigned spot, turning to Clarke with an easy smile and simple greeting of, "Sup, I'm Raven," Clarke had released the unconscious breath she'd been holding. 

Really, in the few months since all the new hires had arrived, Raven had become a kind of lifeline for Clarke at work. And in her private life as well, when she really thought about it, Clarke indifferently acknowledging her rather nonexistent group of friends before she'd come along. But she was fine with that, enjoying a more solitary peaceful kind of life than her otherwise boisterous peers seemed to enjoy. 

But the irony of going from dreading even the thought of Raven's mere presence to becoming one of Clarke's closest confidantes, and in such a short period of time, was not at all lost on her.

Not that the filthy traitor didn't have her infuriating drawbacks. 

"Oop, heads up. Hot delivery girl, incoming," Raven whispered, a devious smile stretching over her face. 

"Wha-"

Clarke jumped slightly at the quiet thud beside her, eyes swinging around to take in a brilliant pink box now sat squarely in the middle of her desk. Before she could react, a grey skirt covered hip slid just over the edge of her desk, nudging aside her nameplate and outgoing stack of mail to create an impromptu seat. 

"Morning, gorgeous."

Clarke barely bit back a groan. 

Raven grinned, leaning forward on her elbows to look up at the woman now perched on Clarke's desk. "Well, good morning to you too, Lexa."

_Perfect._

Clarke tried her hardest to stay focused on her annoyance at Lexa having such a brazen disregard for things such as personal space and belongings and the _entirety_ of office etiquette, pushing down the thoughts of how well that satin burgundy shirt hugged every last one of her curves.

Cheeks pinking in failure, she compromised and settled on averting her eyes to the safety of her computer to dive back into her work. 

"Oh, morning. Did you do something with your hair, Reyes?" Lexa questioned, reaching out right across Clarke's screen to gently tug on one of Raven's flowing locks. "Sexy. Looks good."

Sighing in resignation at the obviousness of Lexa's antics, Clarke stopped typing and flopped back silently in her chair while feeling that typical simmering flare of anger. 

Because who did that? Who does this? Who just sits themselves down on top of a veritable stranger's desk and starts flirting with their coworker? Who practically shoves their ass in someone's face just to sweet talk and charm someone who is distinctly not the work area's owner?

"I did," Raven said, breaking through Clarke's silent tirade with a pleased smile tinting her features. "Got it trimmed and had an oil treatment done yesterday after work. Thank _you_ for noticing."

Feeling a pinch to her arm Clarke grunted a soft, "Ow," sucking in a breath as she rubbed the injured area and glared at her friend. "I'm sorry, okay? I told you I had a rough morning."

"Oh, no. What happened?" Lexa frowned, tucking a wisp of blonde behind Clarke's ear before pulling back again. "Bad dreams?... _Good_ dreams? 

Blue eyes flew up to the face obviously fighting a smile, an unreadable glint coloring the hooded gaze looking back.

Sucking in a breath at the blatant inappropriateness of _that,_ at the feeling that somehow Lexa was currently seeing every flash of their torrid sleeptime coupling currently flying through her mind, Clarke coughed out a quiet choking sound before clearing her throat and shaking her head. "No," she stated, adjusting in her chair at the tick of a dark brow before adding on firmly, "and _no_... I'm fine."

Turning back to see her coworker smirking as she glanced back and forth between them, Clarke narrowed her eyes and pointedly continued. "And I would've noticed eventually, Raven. It's been like five minutes since you sat down."

"Yeah, uh huh, whatever. Lexa noticed at least," Raven flicked her wrist in dismal. "Who needs you anyway?"

"Rave-"

"Ignore her, Clarke," she heard as slim fingers slowly turned her head forward and up, finding a heated grin zeroed in on her. _"I_ need you."

The altogether too intimate touch and tone was gone before she could even begin to process it as Lexa casually moved to open the box beside her, flipping the top and continuing as though nothing had happened at all. 

"Anyway, I had a craving this morning and couldn't stop myself, but I definitely went a little overboard. So I figured I'd share." 

Breathable oxygen still very much an issue after the gentle handling and warm words, Clarke dazedly looked down to see a small array of sweets. 

"Oh my God," Raven moaned, pitching forward over the span of their desks to look through the variety of cupcakes with eagle-eyed precision. "Have I ever mentioned I love you, Lexa?"

"Buttercream can have that effect on people," Lexa hummed, leaning a palm down to support her weight as she practically lazed back across Clarke's desk. "Help yourself. Just leave the-"

"I know, I know," Raven rolled her eyes with a smile, fingers already lifting a chocolate and caramel monstrosity out of the box and bringing it to her mouth. 

Snapping out of her reverie, Clarke drew in a quick breath and tsked at her deskmate as she sat back down. "It's like eight in the morning, Raven."

"So?" she muffled through a face full of cupcake.

"Technically, it's 8… 22," Lexa unhelpfully supplied, checking and then double checking the gleaming white gold watch sat neatly on her wrist. Clarke watched as a slim finger dragged through one of the cupcake's chocolate glazing in a slow, lazy swoop. "Everyone knows you're allowed to sin after 8 a.m."

"That makes no sense whatsoever," Clarke frowned, her focus now centered entirely on the woman draped over her work area. 

"Trust me, Clarke," Lexa assured in a whisper while bringing the frosting covered fingertip to her mouth. Full red lips wrapped around the sugary digit before sliding it back out clean. "I'm an expert."

With that Lexa hopped up, legs swinging out in a graceful arch as she lifted herself back onto the ground and hands slid over her chest in a show of straightening out the delicate fabrics of her clothes. Clarke valiantly tried not to watch how the slick material bunched and tugged in all the right places, a small inner voice chastising herself when the only coherent thoughts were of the fit and cut of her outfit. 

It was annoying how everything seemed to fit like it was made for no one other than Lexa's slender, toned body. 

"Raven, I have a meeting at 11 that I need you to push back to 3," Lexa said as she finished her preening and collected her confectionery haul. "Charles wants to go over the contracts in prep for a new client, so I'll probably be busy dealing with kissing his ass until lunch." 

"You got it, boss lady," Raven nodded, immediately turning to her computer at the instruction. "Not that I believe for a second you kiss anyone's ass around here."

"Oh, I don't know… There's definitely one or two," Lexa hummed, actually having the nerve to openly let her eyes trail over to Clarke for a moment, throwing in a final wink before sauntering away and leaving Clarke to her ruddy cheeked stupor. 

Traitorously, Clarke's attention followed after, watching the hitch and sway of rounded hips and long legs as they glided through the office atop high, pristine heels. Strong yet slim shoulders flexed with the confident swing of her arms as Lexa walked like she owned everyone and everything within sight. She couldn't help but noticed how the dip of Lexa's back looked _so_ good wrapped in the material of her blouse, its color and texture seeming almost liquid in the sunlight that slanted through the tall office windows; its smooth deep color spilling over the curve of her firm, full, squeezable looking-

"You need some alone time with that view?"

"What?" Clarke startled, head snapping back around to see her wickedly grinning friend as she carelessly took another bite of her treat.

"You looked like you were trying to get her pregnant with that stare."

"That-... No. Shut up. I wasn't even-... Shut up."

"Articulate. What I don't understand though is why you act like such an angry virgin every time she's around," Raven said, thoroughly ignoring the horrified look that stretched over Clarke's face. "I mean the girl comes up with the dumbest excuses to come talk to you, and you barely ever say two words back. At least none that aren't hostile."

"She doesn't though," Clarke argued despite Raven's dubious look. "She came here to flirt _with you._ 'Ooo Raven, your hair's so sexy'," she mimicked in a nasally voice, dodging the hand slapping her away as she moved to caress Raven's admittedly beautiful black locks. "Besides her being an HR ticking time bomb with how obvious she is, you're married for God's sake."

"You're so dumb. She didn't come here to flirt with me, dude," Raven laughed and shook her head, reaching over to tap a finger on Clarke's desk. "She came to give you that."

Clarke followed her line of sight, face scrunching up in surprised confusion at noticing the perfectly placed red and white cupcake sitting on the front edge of her desk. 

"Haven't you ever noticed whenever she 'accidentally' gets too many cupcakes, miraculously and mysteriously there's always one red-velvet in there? And it always miraculously and mysteriously ends up in your very own little combative hands?" Raven asked, rolling her eyes at Clarke's disgruntled look of dawning realization. "Homegirl sure as hell doesn't know _my_ favorite flavor, I just take what I can get."

"... I guarantee you, it's a coincidence," Clarke said before immediately busying herself with fixing the arrangement of her work belongings. "Lexa's… I don't even know what. But thoughtful or kind or whatever the hell everyone here seems to think, isn't one of them."

"What has she ever done to you? Why do you dislike her so much?" Raven asked. 

"How do you not? She's so… I mean how does no one else get it? She's insanely unprofessional, and says just the, ugh. The things that come out of her mouth. She flirts with everything in a skirt and bosses people around who've been here for years. Besides, tell me you've never noticed all the weird stuff that happens around here."

"Clarke, we're a startup legal and consulting firm. Of course there's weird shit going on around here. It's a circus filled with idiots."

"No," Clarke said firmly. "You don't get it, you weren't here before she got here. Things were quiet and fine at the old building and now everything's crazy. Contracts always going missing, John literally disappeared one day and never showed back up-"

"You realize he probably just quit."

"The whole office has this weird vibe now," she continued on a roll. "I have never seen so many mess ups and freak accidents in an _office building_ of all places before in my life. And she's always just… _there."_

Raven silently stared at her with a blank look of boredom, slowly chewing a bite of her cupcake before swallowing and shaking her head. "Again. You realize everything you described sounds normal for a company that's recently expanded, right? Personnel turnover, paperwork mistakes, general growing pains as they adjust? And you're blaming her for that? When she's literally been nothing but nice to both of us?"

"She just… rubs me the wrong way."

"I think your issue is wanting her to rub you the _right_ way."

Clarke scoffed in an overwhelming show of disgust, ignoring the swoop of her stomach to needlessly re-straighten the pile papers in her hands before carelessly tossing them aside. 

"You've lost your mind if you think I could even think about her like that. I've seen the way she looks at other people around here, believe me, she's not all sunshine and cupcakes and sexually suggestive compliments. There's something up with her... Besides, she's annoying. And cocky. You guys treat her like she's God's gift, but in reality she's just another asshat lawyer… And she's not even that pretty."

Clarke hadn't meant to go on such a vitriolic rampage of words but it was hard sometimes having to listen to the endless poetic waxing of the woman's praises. It just never stopped, and Clarke genuinely couldn't understand how not one other person seemed to be able to see through Lexa's bullshit. Her pompousness and irritatingly smooth talking at every interaction. Like somehow her taking the time to figure out Clarke's favorite cupcake and going to the trouble of buying it for her… and hand delivering it to her desk… could, or should, somehow make up for the salaciousness of her smirk.

"Hey, Clarke?" she heard beside her after a moment.

 _"What?"_ she breathed, trying not to let her frazzled nerves get the best of her as she faced Raven with expectant annoyance. 

"Can you turn this way?... Now do this," Raven asked, tilting her own head this way and that as her eyes roved over Clarke's face from different angles.

"What are you looking at? Why?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking about what contouring would work best with your clown makeup, you gigantic fucking liar." 

Raven easily ducked the halfheartedly slap Clarke aimed at her shoulder before carelessly tossing her empty wrapper in the bin between them and swiveled to resume tapping away at her keyboard. 

"I'm just saying," she continued, "you're fooling exactly no one with that act. You'd have to be blind not to see how attractive that woman is. I'm happily married and even I don't particularly mind watching her shake her ass past your desk fifty-some-odd times a day. She's a hottie with a body, Clarke. And everyone, including you, can see that."

"You're as bad as she is. And I'm telling your wife you said that."

"Bold of you to assume I haven't said it to her myself... Granted, it was in the context of me wanting you guys to just knock boots already, but she's aware I work with eye candy and she really doesn't care. My lady knows I'm faithful; I can eye-fuck whoever I want."

"You and Anya defy all sense of reasonable relationship standards."

"That was part of the deal," Raven hummed, clearly becoming more distracted as she leaned closer to her screen and focusing on her work. 

Sighing deeply at the apparent dismissal, Clarke resigned herself to the day as she clicked back into the long list of emails waiting for her… and begrudgingly took a bite of her cupcake.

////////////////

“No, Mom, that’s not what I said.”

Clarke grit her teeth and held back a sigh that hung in her throat as her words went unacknowledged, quickly switching the phone from one shoulder to the other to instead focus on pulling open the door of the breakroom microwave. The rich smell of spices and sweet chilis greeted her nose, filling her chest with a soothing kind of warmth on her midday break. 

Was she a bit of a dick for heating up something so fragrant at work? Yes. But considering the kind of day she'd been having along with everything going on in the office at any given moment, she decided her perfectly normal, if not slightly pungent smelling lunch was more than acceptable. 

People would just have to get over it. 

Half listening to the words filtering in through the speaker pressed to her ear, Clarke mindlessly stirred her food without retaining a single word as she waited for her turn to speak again. 

She let her thoughts drift to that morning, absently licking at her lips and tasting the memory of sugary sweet frosting with just a bite of bitter chocolate. 

A bubble of familiar unease rose in her chest, a cloying sort of wariness mixed with a tingling sensation of want. It was during these quiet moments of reflection that always left Clarke feeling weaker, these lingering seconds of solitude from the prying eyes of her coworkers when hastily repressed thoughts once again flashed through her head.

There was just something about the new lawyer that didn't sit right in her chest. An indefinable something that caused the hairs on Clarke's neck to stand at attention.

She was _too_ charming. _Too_ smooth, and entirely too sure of herself, Clarke having seen her fair share of unwarrantedly inflated egos and self-confidence to notice the difference. Lexa never, not once, ever seemed to falter in her stride. Not a word or a single step that was anything short of perfection in the eyes of her coworkers.

At least that's what Clarke had been forced to file in Lexa's quarter year employee evaluation earlier that day, having slammed the filing cabinet shut just a little more violently than necessary after reading it. 

But it was also in these quiet little moments, that Clarke's mind wandered toward some of its most dangerous recesses. Thoughts she resolutely railed against with every ounce of her better judgement. 

Because so what if Lexa always smelled like some sort of rich spicy incense. Or the fact that when she concentrated, her lips would annoyingly fall into a perfectly bee-stung sort of pout. 

So what if Lexa's skin always had a slight glow to it, the kind that made her seem young and bright, yet effortlessly timeless all at once? Who cared if the pencil skirts she wore hugged the curve of her hips in ways that made Clarke rethink every item in her wardrobe? Or if suits looked just as sinfully good on her trim frame, always complete with tight fitting vests that managed to accentuate the lushness of her deceptively round and full assets…

None of that mattered. 

Lexa couldn't be trusted.

Sucking in a quick breath, Clarke blinked out of the haze of her mind at that sobering thought as the voice in her ear grew louder.

"Clarke!"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm here, mom. Calm down."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course, I am," she lied seamlessly. 

"This is exactly what I said would happen. You never listen. If you're having problems-"

"What? I'm not having problems," she hurriedly corrected with as little annoyance as possible, stomach feeling in knots at where her thoughts had treacherously been heading. "That's not what I said. I said things are just weird right now at work. I'm busy and getting used to the bigger office. I can handle it."

Hearing the door open behind her, Clarke quickly seized the distraction and straightened. “Look, Mom, I’m about to go on my lunch break, okay? I’ll call you back later.”

With that, she hung up and moved to stuff her phone back into her pocket.

She knew she'd be in for it later for the hasty goodbye, but in that moment all she felt was relief. 

Clarke went about her business without a second thought, mind absently going over the list of things left for her to finish before her day was through. She mentally shifted which filing and emails should go out in what order, wondering if she had enough time to run down to finance to get copies of a few forms she'd requested before their department left for the day.

Finally letting loose the sigh from before, as she lamented choosing a career where she couldn’t leave an hour early every damn Friday, Clarke picked up her bowl and turned to sit down.

And nearly dropped everything in her hands.

“That smells amazing.”

Thanking everything in her for having reflexes quick enough to react, Clarke steadied the bowl that had almost slopped and spilled all over the front of the person standing right exactly behind her.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, clutching a hand to her chest for a moment. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry,” Finn laughed, looking anything but. “Couldn’t help myself. Everything over here smelled pretty irresistible.”

A tiny awkward chuckle was the best she could muster. "Um, thank you." 

Internally Clarke was pulling her hair from its roots. Because of course this was something that would be the cherry on top of her day. She did her best to shuffle backwards a step, biting back a huff when Finn immediately filled the space again. 

“What is that exactly?” Finn asked, eyes moving between Clarke’s face and the bowl held between them. 

Shifting slightly on her feet, Clarke shrugged and held the bowl a little higher. "Stir fry with chilis. Nothing special."

"Spicy, nice. I'll have to remember that." 

"What does that mean?"

"Ya know," he grinned, "for whenever you finally say yes to that date."

"Finn," Clarke sighed, weighing whether it was better to just ignore the comment or to remind him that they'd been over this before. 

At length.

Instead Clarke found her words cut off by the sight of a slim hand sliding over his shoulder and visibly gripping tightly. 

Clarke hadn't even heard her come in.

"Collins, Christ, give the poor woman some air," Lexa said as she all but yanked him a step back, smiling in a slight baring of teeth. Any kindness the feigned look was meant to convey failed to reach through the dark glimmer in her eyes.

It was the same dark glimmer that always caused a violent lurch within Clarke's stomach. She could never quite put her finger on it, on how drastically Lexa's eyes seemed to change moment to moment. Gone was the cool shade of near translucent green from just that very morning, replaced instead by two swirling pools of deep forest black. 

Their intensity was unsettling, like a void surrounded by pure white, the look of them haunting in how empty they could be. 

And yet, like she was slowly coming to realize would always be the case, Clarke was the only one affected by the hollow stare. The only one who seemed to notice any change in her at all, if the relaxed smile on Finn's face as he turned to the newcomer was anything to go by. 

"Oh hey, Ms. D."

"Finn, we've talked about this. Call me that again, and I'll gut you in front of your family," Lexa answered with an airy chuckle, the laugh trailing off as the smile slipped from her face. "May I ask what you're doing in the breakroom? Considering it is not your break time?"

He grinned at Clarke with what she assumed was his attempt at a boyish kind of charm. "Just stretching my legs… Enjoying some company."

Clarke watched the porcelain face darken further from the corner of her eye as she mentally willed Finn to mercifully shut up. 

"Hm... Well, I think you should go back to your desk, Finn," Lexa said in a slow measured tone, relaxing and pulling away the hand that had lingered on his shoulder. "I dropped off a few new accounts for you to work on. And I don't appreciate waiting."

"Right, of course. I'm all over it," he assured with that same easy smile. 

A few beats of awkward silence passed, Clarke feeling horrified secondhand embarrassment on his behalf, confident that somehow she was the only one of the pair aware of its thickness. Finally Lexa huffed, an annoyed smile stretching across her face as she brought a hand up in a sweeping motion toward the door. 

_"Now."_

"Oh!" Finn laughed, blinking and shaking his head as he stepped away and reached for the door. "Of course. Sorry. See you later, Clarke. And, uh… think it over again. You have my number."

Clarke watched as he waved and left the room, jaw hanging slightly at how the sharpness of Lexa's demeanor seemed to go completely unnoticed. Yet _again_ Lexa just stood there, entirely unchallenged and unbothered in how biting her behavior had been, Lexa's bark of a command and mirthful threat of violence being met with nothing more than a relaxed smile and obedience. 

Her gaze slid from where her clueless coworker had disappeared to the woman still beside her, catching the look of disdain before Lexa turned to face her instead.

"My paralegal wasn't bothering you, was he?"

Clearing her throat quickly, Clarke shook her head and looked anywhere but forward. Anywhere to not focus on how quickly Lexa's eyes had softened, once again the pale and warm shade she was used to seeing whenever they got too close. "No, no. That-- You didn't have to do that. He's... He's mostly harmless. Just overly friendly. But I don't mind him, really."

The soft sound of a 'humph' had Clarke's attention snapping up, frowning at the steeled brittleness that had crept back over the edges of Lexa's expression. She watched her jaw tick, just a fraction of a movement as Lexa's gaze bored into her.

"You like him."

"What? No?" she grimaced, stomach strangely bottoming out at the hollow sounding accusation. Without thought, words flooded from Clarke's mouth at feeling the need to explain herself. "I mean I do, but not-... I don't even think I'd call him a friend. We went out once. With a group of people! And honestly, it was weird... But it's not like that. At least not on my end. I mean, god, he's my coworker."

"... So," Lexa drawled, tilting her head slightly, "you'd never be with someone you work with?"

"Well I didn't say that, I just said not him," she huffed before catching herself, cheeks flaming pink as the hardened face looking at her shifted into that familiar lopsided twist of amusement.

Jesus.

 _Every. Damn. Time._

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Clarke couldn't decide between wanting to melt on the spot, or strangle the annoying woman when she opened them again and took in the satisfied grin staring back.

"Noted."

"Not that that's really _any_ of your business," Clarke tacked on feebly, stepping to the side and moving around her in a swift step toward the door, quickly deciding her best bet would be to flee to the safety of her desk. "Besides, isn't it kind of inappropriate for bosses to ask employees personal questions like that?"

"Considering I'm not technically your boss, that doesn't really apply to me," Lexa said as she walked close behind her. "And in case you haven't noticed, I tend to run my department with a rather… 'devil may care' attitude."

"Kind of hard to miss."

"You gotta loosen up some, Clarke."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Clarke grumbled to herself, neck heating at how close she felt the woman on her heels. Before she could make a clean exit, to give herself a chance to breathe and get her head back on straight, a hand shot out and wrapped around the steel handle of the door, causing her to halt for a moment as Lexa opened it with a flourish. "Are you following me now?"

Lexa chuckled brightly, the soft lilt of its sound doing things to Clarke's heartbeat that she had no intention of examining with so little oxygen in the room. 

Tipping her head to rest on the edge of the door in her grasp, Lexa smirked and demurely motioned out toward the main floor. "I don't really have a choice if I want to get back to my office, Clarke, we're kind of heading the same way. Letting you be rude to me while walking back is just an added bonus I guess."

Swallowing at the dryness in her throat, Clarke rolled her eyes and walked out, willing her body to control herself as Lexa seamlessly matched her strides. 

"Speaking of which, it wouldn't kill you to be nice to me, ya know. Even just sometimes. It could be our little secret."

Clarke resolutely ignored her goading in the hopes of not letting her mouth run away with her again. 

"Oh come on. Look, I know I'm a lot. But I'm really not _that_ bad," Lexa grinned, reaching out to ghost a hand over Clarke's elbow. 

Clarke snorted a half laugh, shrugging off the blush that bloomed across her neck. "You literally just threatened to eviscerate a guy for calling you a nickname, but yeah, I'm sure you're secretly a perfect little angel."

"Oh, Clarke… you really have no idea."

Clarke quickened her steps at the slow, rolling cadence of that particular statement, brows furrowing even as she breathed a sigh of relief as her desk came into view.

"But fine," she heard Lexa breezily concede from beside her, "be that way if you must."

"Well, thank you for your permission."

"I have to say, though," Lexa murmured as she shifted closer for the few final steps, Clarke's lungs stuttering with a hitch as Lexa pressed herself along the length of Clarke's side, "seeing you take your break at your desk kind of makes me wish I'd invited you to lunch. I _know_ we could've found something a lot more fun to eat than that."

Clarke's head spun as her stomach tightened, knees almost buckling at the flare of an ache that throbbed through her core.

She opened her mouth to angrily hiss a long overdue reprimand at the gleefully smirking woman when, as always, a pleased voice cut in before she could choke out a word. 

"Hey, Lexa. You slummin' it with us again?"

_Goddamn, Raven._

"No, unfortunately," Lexa casually sighed, coming to a stop in front of her secretary's desk as Clarke shakily looped around her and darted to her own seat. "I'm heading back to my office to finish up from this morning. Now that Charles isn't breathing down my neck." 

The violence of Lexa's eyeroll colored her words loud enough for Clarke to hear it without having to look, not that she could focus on much beyond steadying her hands enough to put down her food without spilling. 

Because what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just keep her shit together? Why couldn't she control the pangs lancing across her body? 

Lexa was insufferable. And off putting. And entirely inexcusable; almost vulgarly indecent to the point Clarke marveled at the sheer brazen confidence of her every action.

And yet still, lust heated blood thundered through her veins, every inch of her practically vibrating as she kept replaying the words over and over, her brain conjuring up lurid images to go along with them. 

Images of herself splayed across sheets of a hastily acquired hotel bed, hands gripping fistfuls of wild chestnut as a slick tongue rocked between her thighs. Thoughts churned as the vision faded and shifted in and out of focus, instead being replaced by glimpses of feeling herself pushed roughly against the wall of a darkened office. Her breath quickened and eyes fluttered as she imagined hands tearing and shoving at her clothes, nimble fingers tugging aside arousal soaked panties as she begged for release.

She pictured feeling soft brunette curls tickling the swell of her hips as full and pouty lips sucked in unrelenting pulls; wondering how they'd feel pressed against the sensitive skin of her thigh when her leg was slung over a slim shoulder-

"Earth to damn Clarke."

The swift click of fingers snapping several times in front of her face brought her crashing back down to reality, realizing with a mortified start that she'd apparently been hovering and staring blankly at the pair for a few solid minutes. 

"Aaaaand she's back," Raven said, nodding her head with a sarcastic smile. "Can you sit down now? You look like a creeper."

"Sorry," Clarke mumbled, lowering gracelessly into her chair to all but bury her humiliation in her food. 

The scorch that had risen to Clarke's cheeks at finally registering the wickedly pleased look on Lexa's face was enough to make her feel like she was burning alive.

"Anyway, thank you for the invite, Raven. And I'd love to," Lexa hummed from the corner of her periphery, causing Clarke to momentarily panic until she spoke again. "But really, I can't. Duty calls, unfortunately."

"You're a slave to the time clock."

"Somebody has to cross the i's and dot the t's," Lexa said, grinning at Clarke when she finally glanced up as she left. "Devil's in the details around here."

"Good to know you've got us covered," Raven laughed, sending a halfhearted wave over her shoulder before turning back to her lunch.

With the distance between them growing as Lexa departed Clarke's gaze slipped to trail after, watching the fluidity of her movements as she made her way across the room. Clarke's lungs loosened with each step, releasing the gulp of air that had been lodged in her throat as she tried, and failed, to calm the rapid thudding of her heart. 

Between wantonly unwelcome lust and riotously indignant loathing, Clarke felt so much like she was drowning as Lexa walked away. 

She tried desperately to understand how she could feel so ignited by someone so distasteful. How time and time again every truly angry word and vicious thought toward Lexa tied itself in knots and refused to be spoken the second she was near. Instead being replaced with impulses that left her feeling distinctly warm and wanting.

Thinking over and dissecting this last debacle of a meeting, what affected her more than anything was the feeling of Lexa's eyes. 

How unwaveringly intense they were each time they washed over her; their green laced with gold and a sliver of something sinister. The way they'd survey the departments as she swept toward her office, passing across rooms and meeting halls in silent evaluation, only pausing in intervals when they'd latch on to something that happened to catch her interest. 

They were predatory. 

Predator, that was the word that had come to Clarke's mind the first time she saw her, remembering with absolute clarity the moment her eyes had connected with the matching set of steely greens. The way she'd taken in how their heated glint caught the light in such an odd way, a simmering depth to them sending chills up her spine mixed with the distinct lick of fire lapping at her skin. 

And every day thereafter, Clarke still felt herself burning; still uneasily shifting under that feeling of being hunted. 

So caught up in her thoughts of the dynamics of predator versus prey, Clarke nearly screamed in surprise as she watched Lexa pause for a moment to rear back, and punch Finn directly in the back of the head. 

Her hand flew to her mouth as she watched Lexa continue walking casually to her office, Clarke's lips dropping open in shock as she shot up and out of her chair and an alarmed squeak tore at her throat. 

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?"

Clarke struggled, pointing at Finn as he… shook his head and continued working, looking entirely unaffected. 

"I- She--"

A few sets of eyes around them slowly glanced to her in confusion as she ground out fractions of horrified sentences, a hush settling over their small corner of the floor as Raven hurriedly stood up beside her with a deeply questioning look.

"Whaaat is going on?" Raven asked quietly, eyes darting in the general area she was pointing.

"F-Finn! I- I saw..."

The words died on her tongue when she watched Finn from a distance as he leaned back in his chair with a smile, turning to chat with the person beside him.

"What about him? Did he fuck up paperwork or something? God, tell me now if I need to be pissed."

Clarke desperately swallowed as her body thrummed with adrenaline. "No, no. He… his head…"

"... Is empty, we're aware of this," Raven said slowly, nodding along and looking at Clarke as though she'd lost her mind. "Why would that make you freak out though? Seriously, what's going on?"

Clarke huffed loudly as she emphatically pointed again with frustration. "No! She- His head!... He's hurt... He should be hurt, I don't understand..."

"Girl, what are you talking about? Hold on, HEY, FINN!"

"Yo, I am on the _phone,"_ Clarke heard called out from a random desk to her left, not bothering to see who it was as she watched Finn perk up at his name.

"Sorry, one sec," Raven waved off whoever the objector was, leaning forward across Clarke's desk as Finn stood to see her better. "Finn, how's your head?"

He frowned at her slightly, before a stupid grin stretched across his face. "I've never gotten any complaints on it."

"Hilarious," Raven drawled, flipping her fingers under the jut of her chin before speaking again. "I meant the actual grease covered shell that sits on your shoulders."

"I think I have a headache coming on?" he answered with a mystified shrug, glancing between the two women in confusion. "You offering a head massage, or is this like an office poll thing?

"Uh huh, I'm collecting data on whether brainless organisms can feel pain, you're my control subject. Thanks for your input."

"Always a pleasure, Reyes," Finn sneered, lifting a discreet finger in her direction before turning back to his chair.

"Yeah, the dipshit's fine."

"No. No. No," Clarke shook her head roughly, panting as she grabbed Raven by the arm and dragged her away from their desks. 

"Ouch, what the hell?" Raven yelped, despite not fighting as Clarke yanked her along toward the bathroom. "Will you calm down?"

"You don't understand, Raven, I saw it," she whispered as she flung the door of the bathroom open, pulling them inside before slamming it shut and turning the lock.

"Saw what?" Raven asked, eyes wide and hands lifted in a silent demand. "You just started freaking out!"

"I watched her punch him in the fucking head, Raven!"

"Who?"

"Lexa!"

A beat of silence passed as Raven's face went blank, hands dropping to her sides as Clarke paced back and forth in front of her.

"What the fuck?"

"She did, I saw it happen."

"You're saying you… saw her punch him… in front of everyone."

"I did. She was walking back to her office and she just," Clarke said, miming clocking herself in the temple as she continued to pace. "Right in the back of his head."

"... Clarke," Raven started gently after a stretch of silence, easing forward and reaching a hand out to pull her to a stop. "You really have to stop with this Lexa stuff, okay? It's starting to get out of control."

"Don't," Clarke snapped, "I know what I saw."

"Clarke, she didn't hit anyone. We all would've seen it happen."

"I watched her do it," she ground out. 

"Then why didn't anyone else see it, Clarke?"

"I don't know!"

"And why didn't Finn mention it, Clarke?"

"Stop saying my name like that. I'm not crazy."

Raven blew out a breath and nodded, reaching up and rubbing at the crease in her brow as she spoke. "I don't think you're crazy, Cl- Dude… I just think you've been really stressed out recently."

"Because of her!"

"That's what I'm saying," Raven said with an exasperated smile, resting her hands on Clarke's shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. "You have been so caught up in your head about hating this chick, you're driving yourself over the edge. I mean, you've been zoning out all day long. Has it not occurred to you at all that maybe, just maybe, you imagined it?"

"Raven," Clarke implored, eyes burning with the sting of frustrated tears. "I know what I saw. I'm not crazy. I'm _not."_

"I genuinely don't think you are, but I just--" she started, biting her lip as she thought for a moment. "Maybe… Maybe it would be good for you to get out of your routine for a while. Get out of your head… You should come over tonight. Anya's been saying that she wants you over again soon."

"No she hasn't, don't lie."

"Well no, she hasn't, but I have, so she'll get over it. C'mon, you need to decompress from all this shit. And you need to get out of that empty fucking apartment. It's been weeks since you did anything with us. And, dude, you're starting to- you, you're getting a little intense."

Clarke breathed for a moment, swallowing slowly as Raven released her hold. She glanced up, seeing a look of concern crinkle at the edges of deep brown eyes. Thinking over the last few minutes, Clarke realized exactly how she looked standing there in the dim light of the bathroom.

Shit.

Thinking quickly, Clarke nodded and gave a shaky smile, walking over to the bank of sinks to lean on the cool marble of the counter. 

"No, I, you're right," Clarke breathed out in halting agreement as she straightened and turned on the tap. "I don't know what I was thinking. But you're right, I need to get out of my head."

"Yes! Exactly. Just come over, we'll have a good time. No work talk or thinking about she who must not be named all night, I promise," Raven smiled at her in the mirror. 

"Yeah… yeah," Clarke smiled back while meticulously washing her hands. "But um, not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Clarke--"

"No, no, really. I slept so badly last night and, like you said, I've been dragging ass all day because of it," she reasoned. "I think I might even head out early today. Go home, get to bed early. I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow. But I'll call you, for sure."

She watched Raven's reflection deflate behind her, jaw tensing as the woman flexed and balled her hands. Clarke waited silently as she went through the motions of turning off the tap and pulling a few paper towels free. 

"Okay, fine," Raven finally sighed. "But I'm serious. Call me this weekend, bitch. If you don't I will blow your phone up for the next two days."

"I will," Clarke answered immediately, spinning around with an easy smile as she wrung the crumpled paper towels between her fingers. "Promise. I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to annoy your wife for an evening."

Raven rolled her eyes as she reached over and flipped the lock on the door. "You ain't special, I'm married to her and even I annoy Anya. That's her baseline emotion. C'mon, we should head back."

"Actually, I'm just gonna take another minute. You go ahead though." Clarke said as Raven opened the door, casually leaning her back against the sink behind her. 

"... You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good now," Clarke assured. "Thank you. I just lost my shit for a minute, but I'm back to reality. Sleep deprivation is a bitch, ya know… Just going to take an extra minute to breathe before facing the pit again."

Raven eyed her for a moment before nodding, silently moving out of the room and closing the door behind her. 

The second the door shut, Clarke shot up off the counter and resumed her pacing, hands releasing the twisted lump of paper that she'd been holding in a death grip. Throwing it violently into the garbage after a few more laps of the room, she sunk down onto the palms of her hands and stared at herself in the mirror. 

She wasn't crazy. 

She _wasn't_ fucking crazy. 

Her chest heaved as she replayed the moment over in her head, from seeing Lexa pause mid stride as she'd passed, to seeing Finn's shaggy head of hair fly forward from the impact. She watched Lexa gently clench and stretch her hand as she resumed her trek back toward her office while Finn simply shook off the blow…

How though? How had no one else seen it? Why had Finn said nothing? Played it off like nothing had happened? 

As she stared at herself, Clarke felt a sense of quiet settle in her core as a truly terrible idea slowly emerged in her mind. But the more she toyed with it, the more she didn't really see any other option. Because she'd be damned if she kept going on like this. 

Clarke straightened from her slumped position over the sink, standing tall as she made her decision with a nod of finality toward her own reflection. It wasn't ideal, not in the slightest, but at least it was a plan, one that Clarke was praying gave her some sort of vindication. 

Because she _wasn't. fucking. crazy._

  
  


/////////////////

  
  


Maybe she was a little crazy. 

She was beginning to admit that to herself. 

Or at least that was how she felt, slowly becoming aware that the haphazard plan she'd constructed in the cool light of the bathroom seemed a little more wonky in the actual execution. 

Making peace with that admission, Clarke quickly ducked into the canopied stoop of a small shop and pressed herself against the weathered brick as she waited. Seeing the flow of traffic come to a rolling stop, Clarke peaked out from around the ledge before stepping back out, eyes finding their target as the pedestrian light turned green. 

She nearly scowled when the first thing she noticed was how Lexa's wild hair billowed in picturesque waves as she ambled across the street. Clarke pushed up the huge sunglasses that had slipped low on her nose as she darted in and out of the crowd from a safe distance, taking care to keep her target in sight while staying unnoticed. 

Which was easier said than done. 

Apparently in no rush whatsoever, Lexa walked at an annoyingly leisurely pace, steps slow in fluid long strides as she seemed to simply enjoy the scenery of the city. Clarke had to measure herself, randomly stopping beside trees and shifting in and out of business fronts to allow the space between them to remain steady, becoming more frustrated by the moment as Lexa dawdled over seemingly everything in her path. 

A few moments spent perusing windows displays, lazily tapping each parking meter she passed, the maddening woman even going so far as to stop and actually speak with someone handing out fliers. 

It was bizarre watching her outside of the office. The same lackadaisical air to her movements set to the backdrop of such a bustling city. Where most would be met with a glare and rushed contempt, Clarke watched every smile be returned in abundance as passersby genially stepped out of her way. 

Finally, _finally,_ Clarke halted and slipped behind an oversized SUV parked on the curb, watching Lexa begin to dig into the pocket of her jacket as she looped up the steps of a towering brownstone. 

"Hey, Ms. D'Angelo. Home from work already?" 

Clarke huddled down further at the voice, holding her breath for some reason before inching upward and peeking over the hood, just enough to see. A young scruffy looking man in loose fitting jeans and an old tattered coat waved awkwardly when Lexa glanced over, smiling brightly as he closed the door and locked up behind himself.

"Perceptive, Mr. Jordan," Lexa drawled with a friendly lilt as she slipped her key into the lock of her home. "Taking a field trip from your mother's basement I see?"

Clarke couldn't stop the roll of her eyes at the easily delivered insult. 

"Ha, yeah," he laughed pleasantly, moving down the steps of the front stoop as he spoke. "Boys night, ya know. Might get crazy… But uh, you're welcome to join. If you'd like."

Lexa smiled, Clarke seeing the ridicule shining brightly in icy green eyes.

"I'd rather set myself on fire," Lexa said with a chipper raise of her shoulders as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. "But you have fun. Try not to get yourself arrested."

"Will do," he mock saluted and started walking backwards down the street. "Offer still stands. I'll get you to come out with me one of these days."

"When hell freezes over," she waved with a grin before turning and snapping the door shut behind her. 

Clarke breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned her back against the cold metal of the car, thanking every heavenly being that she hadn't been spotted. 

Well, this definitely wasn't what she had expected. 

Not that Clarke had exactly had a clear image in her mind of what Lexa's domestic life would look like, but the picturesque looking home sat on the corner in a quiet nook of the city definitely wouldn't have been in her top five guesses. She supposed she had imagined something more sleek, more modern, perhaps a flat in a high-rise or an upscale ostentatious number in the heart of the city; black and white rooms filled with streamlines and stainless steel on any surface that could take it. Something harsh, something heavy, with sharp angles and muted warmth, the type of place to match whatever it was about Lexa that set Clarke's teeth on edge.

But the place looked decidedly… home-y. In a strangely quaint sort of way, the neighborhood and surrounding houses having an air of community and family appeal. Which was certainly odd the longer Clarke thought about it, frowning to herself as she pushed up from the ground, peeking back over the hood of the SUV before standing to make sure the coast was clear. 

How someone so… Lexa … could choose such a charming little place to live seemed entirely at odds with the 'biting force of nature' kind of temperament Clarke associated with the woman.

Glancing up and down the street, Clarke once again sent up a silent word of thanks that the area was deserted. The dying rays of sun giving way to the sickly shadow of the moon offered a decent amount of cover as she quickly crept her way over to the last house on the left. 

The dim glow of light filtered through a few windows, one after another clicking on as Lexa presumably made herself at home. Clarke slipped off her glasses and hurried to the side of the house, slinking along in hunched steps as she followed the muffled sounds from within, pausing at each window to glance inside. 

The first window showed nothing but a view of a small entrance way that housed hooks full of hanging jackets and a primly lined up row of shoes. The second, a rather frustratingly mundane living room. Nothing out of the ordinary, a simple plush and comfortable looking couch with a tastefully matched sitting chair. A tv over a large mantel toward the front and knickknacks lined the walls, along with some vaguely dark looking artwork, all contrasting and complementing each other and looking exactly like any other house would. 

A clink of glass pulled Clarke's attention away from scowling at how entirely unimpressive the whole house seemed to be, instead causing her to shuffle onward to the final window and peer in. 

Clarke sucked in a gulp of air as Lexa finally came into view, realizing the sound must have been the bottle of wine currently sitting on a rather expensive looking stainless steel kitchen island. 

_Knew it,_ she smugly thought in vindication to herself as she eyed the pristine metal of her appliances, smiling as she watched Lexa finish pouring herself a glass of what appeared to be a rich full bodied red and took a deep pull. 

Full lips pursed as Lexa looked to hum in appreciation at the flavor, Clarke's gaze glued to her profile as the sliver of her tongue darted out to swipe away its lingering taste as she set the glass down. 

And then Clarke's eyes blew wide as she watched Lexa reach for the buttons on her blouse. 

One by one the twitch of nimble fingers slid them free, each one causing the material to sag and drape further down slim shoulders. Clarke stood frozen, nose inches away from the glass as Lexa shrugged the satiny material from her body and casually tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. She silently cursed at the sight of black lace tightly hugging the swell of Lexa's chest, the heavy give of Clarke's panting creating a patch of condensation that expanded and contracted with each breath.

She felt like a pervert standing there, watching with hunger as Lexa pushed her hair to the side and over a shoulder before reaching behind her back. Clarke's tongue felt thick in her mouth as she swallowed, all thoughts of self-condemnation quieting when the luxe lingerie sprung open and was pulled free to join the cast aside blouse. 

This definitely hadn't been the plan when she'd first decided on her little recognizance trip, but as her eyes followed the hands that traced from the dip of Lexa's hips and up over the smooth skin of her stomach, Clarke couldn't be bothered to remember exactly why she'd followed her home at all.

Because then fingers were gently cupping and massaging pert breasts, Lexa's head tipping back as she released a silent sound of relief. Clarke stared at the relaxed look of satisfaction that crossed the side of Lexa's face as she rubbed her breasts in firm, slow circles, seeing the ghost of a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

And then the air seemed to shift as Lexa pulled her hands away, instead planting her palms on the counter as she looked to brace herself. The cage of her ribs expanded in deep breaths as Lexa widened her stance slightly. With a pained looking frown, Lexa's face of ecstasy was replaced by a grimace as she bared her teeth, body twisting sideways in a strange movement and her back bowing up toward the sky. 

Clarke's eyes widened in horror as the skin between the sharp blades of Lexa's shoulders grew angry and red, vicious looking gashes rising to the surface. They spread and extended halfway down the sides of her spine, something looking grotesquely like black blood beginning to seep from the wounds. 

Until Clarke realized that what she was seeing wasn't blood, wasn't even liquid at all, despite how angry and raw looking the wounds appeared to be. Minute by minute the black grew wider and fuller as it slowly registered to Clarke that what she was seeing was actually… a blooming of feathers...

She watched in terrified shock as long black wings slowly pushed up and out of Lexa's skin. The woman's face was pinched in concentration, brow beaded with a thin sheen of sweat as the wings slithered out fuller and wider. 

After what felt like hours, but was more than likely nothing but a handful of seconds, Lexa finally seemed to release a satisfied breath as she collapsed forward onto her forearms, a dopey smile painting her lips as she went. Her head lolled to the side as the wings stretched and fluffed themselves toward the ceiling, their glossy sheen looking menacing as the inky blackness of them gleamed in the bright light of the kitchen. 

All Clarke could do was stare, frozen and gaping at whatever the hell she had just witnessed. She watched in a stupefied daze as Lexa pushed a hand through the hair that had fallen across her face, revealing the relaxed and blissful grin that had replaced her look of discomfort. She stood from her slumped position as the wings finishing their languorous stretch to settle at her back, the affect framing her perfectly. 

Clarke couldn't help it, couldn't stop how her body reacted to such a vision, feeling an almost violent throb of arousal at the sinister yet heavenly looking creature. She felt herself grow wetter as Lexa ran her hands over the taught muscles of her stomach, trailing up and over the curve of her breasts to massage the tendons in her neck. Clarke licked her lips as her mind churned with fantasies, thoughts of her mouth dragging behind the blistering wake of those hands had her _dripping_ at the image of creamy skin beneath her tongue. 

And then without warning, Lexa's head snapped toward the window, blown pools of black widening as they zeroed in on Clarke as she stood illuminated in the soft cast off light of the kitchen. 

Clarke yelped and lurched away, stumbling over her own feet as she scurried backward. She tripped and scrambled through the small yard out onto the sidewalk, hands bracing her fall and helping her to spring back up each time she fumbled on wobbly legs. The second her feet met solid pavement Clarke took off like a rocket, running as fast as her shaky knees would carry her.

Her heart thundered in her ears louder than the sounds of her feet slamming against concrete, Clarke not even taking a chance to look behind her as she put as much distance between herself and… _that_ whole situation as she could. 

Several blocks and wild turns down random corners later, Clarke finally staggered to a stop, lungs screaming as she pitched forward to rest hands on her knees and take a few gulps of breath. Weak and still shaky she hobbled and limped over to a nearby bench, flopping down with a thankful groan as she worked to control her breathing. Her head swiveled back and forth every few seconds as her eyes darted up and down the street, squinting through the darkness despite the doomed feeling of being chased ebbing with every passing moment.

Clarke dug a hand in her pocket and yanked out her phone, deciding her bank account could take the hit this one time as she ordered herself a ride. Breathing a sigh of relief, Clarke nodded gratefully to herself when she saw her ride was only a few minutes out, moving to stash her phone away as she surveyed the area again. 

In the stillness of the night that had fallen in earnest during the whole debacle and subsequent escape, Clarke leaned forward and buried her hands in her hair as she willed herself to just calm down and think, assessing over all of what the hell she had just seen. 

Wings. 

Giant black wings. Wings that literally tore their way out of alabaster skin.

She honestly didn't know what to do with that. How was she even supposed to react to seeing something like that? While she'd anticipated gathering some sort of information that could help her better understand the infuriating enigma that was Lexa D'Angelo, and though she'd admittedly likened her to a few choice expletives that involved more sinister undertones, actually witnessing something so intensely terrifying left her shaken to her core.

Because, again, fucking _wings._

Clarke startled and sprang from her seat at the sound of a car horn, eyes wildly looking around her before seeing the car parked a short distance away. Doing her best to reign in the rapid firing of her heart, Clarke chided herself to calm down even as she hurriedly skittered over toward her waiting driver.

Wrenching the door open, she all but flung herself inside, slamming it shut behind her as she struggled to keep her voice even as she confirmed her destination. She breathed easier as they rolled forward and further away from the quiet neighborhood, the cage of her ribs loosening with each block put between them.

Pressing her forehead to the comfortingly cool glass of the window, Clarke shut her eyes and focused on counting the minutes until she'd be safely locked in her home. A warm cup of tea and the security of her evening routine, that's what she needed at that moment; what she needed to stop her hands from trembling quite so violently anyway. 

Then, she told herself, she'd be able to shake the feeling of fire on her skin. 

… Then she'd be able to shake that last fleeting glimpse of wine stained lips pulling into a smirk as she'd scrambled away.

  
  
  


/////////////////

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time:
> 
> Clarke gets thirsty, then gets a surprise
> 
> Up next:
> 
> A proper introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not answering comments sooner, they were so sweet and I'm so glad people are liking this weird ass story. Time just got away from me :(. Anyway, thank you everyone, you have no idea how much I appreciate every word, i've read them all at least twice. And also, always thank you for reading.
> 
> Shout out to my beta commander-leksa, as always, she's the real mvp. As well as my first readers. The heathens.

As it turned out, a warm cup of tea was absolutely fucking useless when it came to calming Clarke's nerves.

Nor were the excruciatingly slow two days that followed. Two days spent pacing in endless loops around every spare inch of her cramped third story apartment, Clarke only breaking her treads for a few nibbles of food or fruitless attempts at fitful sleep. 

Every few hours she found herself twitching aside the curtains of her window just far enough to let her gaze dart up and down the street, a small and entirely unreasonable part of her half expecting to see a slew of dark creatures lurking from the recesses of blind shadows. Those moments were ultimately followed by a thorough mental slap to her senses, Clarke reminding herself the chances that Lexa would give up her facade just to terrorize her were more than unlikely. 

So she'd force herself to sit again. To calmly and rationally reason out whatever she had seen, to explain and explain again to herself the likelihood that she was in immediate danger was slim to possibly none, Lexa having obviously gone to great lengths to conceal… whatever her condition was. 

Clarke barely allowed herself to definitively consider what exactly that condition could be, a person's medical illnesses weren't her business and the hastily exited google search doing nothing more than making her feel like an idiot. Because the more she thought of possible answers, the tighter her stomach coiled into winding knots, the anxiety rising within her until she'd break and start pacing all over again. 

The entire weekend had been exhausting, Clarke feeling the ache of it in her bones as she settled at her desk Monday morning. The office was still quiet, a low hum of chatter filtering across the room from the few other employees who had found themselves early to work. After another sleepless evening, filled with tossing and turning through sex and terror soaked dreams, Clarke had finally given up on actually getting any rest and decided to face the day. 

Roughly a pound and a half of concealer to cover the lovely bags under her eyes later, she bit her lip and made the short trek to work. As tired as Clarke felt, her body still thrummed with a low simmering anxiety; a jittery dread racing through her at what she'd be facing. 

Not that the three cups of coffee she'd practically mainlined before heading out was exactly helping. 

Determined to pretend as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Clarke breathed a centering breath and signed into her computer. 

She could do this. 

Everything would be fine. 

It was just a normal day. 

"You _dick."_

Jumping with an embarrassingly inelegant shriek, Clarke whipped around in her chair, arms flailing outward in a bizarre knee-jerk reaction. 

"Jesus, dude, are you alright?" Raven asked with a deep frown, lurching forward to grab a sliding stack of files Clarke's elbow had smacked into before they could cascade to the floor. 

Clarke clutched a hand over the hammering in her chest, eyes wide and wild as she recovered from the shock. 

"I- Yeah. You surprised me. I didn't think you'd be in this early," she said, shaking her head at herself.

_'Get it together, Clarke.'_

"Well I wanted to get here early enough to bitch you out off the clock," Raven said, heavily setting her bag and jacket down on her desk with a thump. "Because not only did you _not_ call me this weekend, you ignored every single one of my texts and calls too. What the fuck, girl?"

Clarke opened and closed her mouth silently for a moment, brain sluggishly trying to wrestle itself out of its fear induced fog enough to come up with an answer.

Because… yes. She had done that, both reneging on her promise to reach out _and_ rejecting the woman's myriad of calls. But honestly, at the time? Her semi mental breakdown had simply felt more important. 

She just wished she'd actually taken a moment to come up with a reasonable sounding lie in the meantime. 

"I… Something came up."

Raven rested a hand on her hip and continued her disdainful glare. 

"No really," Clarke tried again, adding more conviction to her voice this time. "It was a whole thing. Weekend was completely crazy, barely had a second to even relax."

At least that was partly true. 

"Okay. Then please, share with the class what exactly was so time-consuming that you had to blow me off for the entire weekend without a word?"

"Rave."

"No. You promised me," Raven said, pulling her chair out and plopping down at her desk. "I understand getting busy, but you couldn't even drop a quick 'sorry, next time' text? Come on."

"I'm sorry."

"I rearranged my weekend to do something with you, simply _because_ you swore you'd get back to me. That was really shitty considering I was only trying to help you out in the first place."

"I said I was sorry," Clarke quietly mumbled. 

"I know, Clarke," Raven huffed, clicking into her computer before turning back to face her. "I know you're sorry. You're always sorry. But also, you do know friendships are reciprocal? You get that, right? After a while, people who get blown off and ignored again and again are going to--"

"I had to go see my mom," Clarke cut in, rushing out the excuse as soon as it popped into her head. 

"... What?"

"My mom. I was stuck with her all weekend. She insisted. I've been dodging her so much recently, but she kind of cornered me and, yeah."

She watched Raven visibly soften, deep brown eyes turning sympathetic. "Shit… I didn't realize."

"Yeah," Clarke nodded, tamping a small wriggle of guilt at the lie and pushed forward with it anyway. "And you know how she is, so it's… easier to not set her off."

"I just… Why do you keep putting yourself into that situation, Clarke? Seriously, just cut her off. Why do that to yourself? She's such a-

"I know, I know. But I promised… I have to, Raven."

Raven eyed her closely, the tick of her jaw relaying her renewed annoyance despite her next words. "Dammit… _Fine._ You're off the hook."

"Thank you," Clarke breathed with a genuine smile.

"You’re still a dickface, though. And you don't deserve me, or my unwaveringly benevolent heart."

Clarke laughed at that, relaxing back into familiar verbal abuse the two friends lovingly shared. "I know I don't, baby," she cooed. "But you treat me so fine."

"Ugh, disgusting, don't ever say that to me again. I'm still pissed that you couldn't even send me a text, so, don't get it twisted."

"I already give you my undying love and devotion, Raven," Clarke smiled as she focused back on her computer. "What more could I possibly have to offer?"

"Yyyyyeah, you can keep your fickle love. The price of my forgiveness is you explaining everything that went down with your mom while buying me lunch, motherf--"

"Raven."

The sharp voice caught Clarke completely off guard, causing a cold chill to slice through her. 

Her heart stuttered and then pounded as the dull thud of heels on carpet drew near, hands fumbling around her desk to grab anything that made her look busy. She swallowed against a lump rising in her throat and ducked her head down to stare unseeing… at a pristinely blank set of documents. 

Fantastic. 

"Morning, Lexa," Raven greeted her brightly, ignoring Clarke as her attention immediately shifted away. 

"Eh, you might want to save those smiles," Lexa said with a wry air to her voice as she stopped in front of her secretary and tossed a few files on her desk. "Today's gonna be a lot, and I'm going to need you focused."

Clarke chanced a look from the corner of her eye, face flushing as she took in the stern cut of Lexa's profile as she spoke. She thought idly if it would be better to make a break for it, a quick impulse of silently dashing to the bathroom flashing in her mind before she dismissed it, realizing that'd only draw all the more attention to her. 

So she stayed quiet, stayed awkwardly, perfectly still, as if somehow even the breath of a movement would unleash a wave of unholy hell. 

Except… Lexa seemed… normal. 

As if it were any other day. Not a single thing in her demeanor betraying the seedy exchange from a few nights before. The casual tilt of her hip as she ran her fingers through her hair, the calm cadence of her voice laced the slightest bit of annoyance, none of it giving away her plans for retribution Clarke had been so anxiously waiting for. 

It was as unsettling as it was comforting, Clarke willing the knot in her stomach to relax with measured breaths as she felt the rush of eminent danger slowly drain from her body. 

It would be okay.

Still, she stayed silent.

"Okay," Raven answered, Clarke practically hearing her mind slip into professional mode as she continued to covertly glance between the two. "What's up?"

"First meeting with the new client. Charles and I will probably be in there with her the majority of the day because this is going to be a mess."

"Alright," Raven nodded, grabbing a notepad and pen and starting to rise from her seat. A hand flying up stopped her in her tracks, Clarke seeing Raven freeze as Lexa spoke.

"This isn't going to be like normal. I'm going to have you basically setting up a second desk in my office for the day, so bring everything. We're going to be shifting around a lot of things to accommodate this case, and I need you to record everything. And delegate to the team as we go. The entire department's schedule is getting shuffled."

"O… kay," Raven frowned as she slowly lowered herself into her seat again and set her things back down. "That sounds kinda intense all for one client."

Lexa huffed and tossed a hand in annoyance. 

"I know. Believe me, I know. It's going to be a pain in the ass, but she's our first high profile client, so she's taking precedent… Basically Charles insists we practically tongue kiss every square inch of her ass, so, here we are. Never mind that it screws over my other clients and makes everyone's lives harder."

Raven pulled a face, and sighed as she gathered together a small array of supplies. "Oh, got it. We're on a mission to make _him_ look good."

"Correct," Lexa nodded, resting her hands on Raven's desk to slowly lean forward with a whisper. "But. If it helps inspire you… There's a nice, big fat bonus check waiting for _both_ of us at the end of this shit show of a rainbow."

Raven squinted at that and leaned in as well. 

"... How fat are we talking?"

"Fat enough that I'll have to find a temp to cover for you while you take a full month's vacation with that little wife of yours."

Raven's eyes blew wide, a slow smile cracking her face.

Lexa grinned back, rapping a soft knock on the desk between them as she straightened herself. "Exactly. So, I need you _focused_ today... Let's show that arrogant prick why he hired us."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. My office, ten minutes," Lexa said and turned, taking a few strides as she flipped the wild twining of her curls over her shoulder… before halting on the spot. 

Pivoting on her heel, she bent at the hips and craned across Clarke's desk to quietly speak directly into her ear. 

"By the way, Ms. Griffin. Charles will be by shortly to have a word with you."

With that she was gone, taking every ounce of air in the room with her. 

Clarke stared helplessly after, eyes wide with fear as a sinking feeling of doom washed over her.

"Yikes. ‘Ms. Griffin’? What'd you do?"

"What?" Clarke asked, head snapping back around to see Raven frowning between her and the retreating figure of her boss. 

"Pike never talks to you in person," Raven said with a raised brow. "Everything is emails and memos. What'd you do to piss both of them off too?"

"I didn't do anything," she offered weakly, clamping her teeth over her lip at the taste of the lie. 

"Yeah, well, Lexa didn't even say good morning to you so something's up." Raven shrugged and finished gathering her things. 

"I… Fuck. I am so getting fired, Raven," Clarke said, sinking her head into her palms as she spiraled. _"Fuck."_

"Oh don't be dramatic," she laughed and secured a small tablet computer on top of the pile of supplies before scooping them into her arms. "I know what a dick that guy is but you keep his entire life running. He's not firing you."

"Uh huh," Clarke miserably agreed, fully aware she couldn't exactly argue about this as she mentally tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do. 

"Maybe I can butter them up into a better mood today with my stunning performance as office lackey. But either way, even if ya do get canned, you still owe me a lunch for this weekend."

Clarke felt her chair jostle as Raven gave her a swift hip check as she passed, the quiet drum of the office sounding like white noise in her ears. 

She was. So screwed. 

Because of course. 

Of course that's how Lexa would get her retaliation. 

The sick irony of it being _her_ head on the chopping block, for sexually inappropriate behaviour toward a coworker no less, churned deep in her gut. While Clarke had idiotically spent the weekend battling nightmarish visions of empty eyes and shadowy figures, not once had it occurred to her that the easiest revenge was to simply get her fired. 

How could she have been so stupid? To have not even at least planned for that possibility in the slightest? To think that Lexa's relaxed demeanor meant anything other than her confidence that the matter was taken care of. She felt like a fool on top of already feeling like a degenerate peeping tom, a hellish sort of realization at the consequences of her-

"Clarke, I need to speak with you a moment."

She shot up from her chair at the baritone voice of her boss, feet stumbling a bit as she over corrected while trying to flash the brightest smile she could muster. "Mr. Pike! Good morning!"

Clarke watched with compounding horror as he winced at the shrill decibel of her overly chipper greeting. 

"Uh, yes. Good morning," he said, eyeing her with a disconcerted look. "I don't have much time, so pay attention."

"Of course," she nodded, the painful, terror striken smile still firmly in place. 

"I've decided to sit in with this new client with Ms. D'Angelo. While I believe she can handle it, I think it'd be best if I help where I can. Which means, I'm going to need you on your game this coming week."

Clarke's smile fell and shifted into a broken look of confusion, her mind falling blank as she stood there, still very much waiting to be fired. 

"... I… What?"

"The new client, Griffin," Charles repeated as he glanced at his watch and released an impatient sigh. "I assumed you were at least aware of what's going on here."

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Clarke fumbled to catch up to what exactly was happening. "Oh! Yeah. Yes. Of course. The new client. I did hear Le- uh, Ms. D'Angelo tell Raven it'd be kind of… challenging."

"Not if we all work together," he grinned, shooting her a look that managed to look more condescending than confident. "Right?"

Clarke lowered herself back down to her seat and grabbed a pen and some paper. "Absolutely. Just tell me what you need me to do." 

"I'm going to be sending you notes and directions throughout the day to fix my schedule as well as Ms. D'Angelo's for the upcoming weeks, so keep your eyes glued to your computer. Ms. Reyes is going to be handling the personnel shuffling but I'm relying on you for everything else. I'm going to need you calling our other clients, county clerks, judges we're friendly with. Everyone, basically. We have to completely open up the coming weeks so we can focus on this."

"Okay. Although I don't-"

"Just get it done," he cut her off. "I’ll have my email open all day. If anyone gives you trouble, message me immediately. If a client refuses to cooperate, remind them to review the fine print of their contracts, and then message me immediately. If anyone so much as complains about the weather we've been having, give them the website to a nice umbrella manufacturer, and then message me immediately. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Clarke said and started organizing the list of tasks she'd be working on for the rest of her day. 

"Good," he said, smoothing his hands over the material of his expensive looking suit. "I'll leave you to it. She should be here any minute. See her to Ms. D'Angelo's office when she arrives."

"Her name?" Clarke called after him as he headed toward Lexa's office. 

"Colden. Nia Colden. Remember it."

Clarke dove into the work spread out before her, fingers flying over her keyboard as she pulled up files and contact information. Rolling her eyes as the list of people she'd need to call grew, Clarke seamlessly clicked in and out of various cases in order of importance.

This was the work she lived for, even if it was a bit of a pain in the ass. Problem solving, analyzing, methodical work with a clear goal in mind. Monotonous in many ways, but a challenge in its execution. She thrived off the knowledge that so many things hung in the balance of her success, people's lives depending on her timing everything exactly right. 

The sound of a throat clearing pulled her attention away from her work sometime later, Clarke blinking away numbers and dashes as she looked up to find steely blue eyes staring down at her. Blonde hair was pulled up into a refined, if not stuffy looking bun, clothes looking crisp and luxurious and like they cost more than Clarke's entire apartment. 

A scruffy looking man milled silently beside her, the ragged yet rugged cut of his jacket, jeans, and jaw looking wildly out of place beside her. Clarke frowned slightly as she noticed the glint in his dark eyes as they roved over her, instead turning to address the woman standing expectantly in front of her desk. 

"May I help you, ma'am?"

"Yes. Nia Colden. I'm here to see Alexandria D'Angelo."

“Of course, Ms. Colden, right this way. They’re expecting you now.”

With only a sharp nod as her answer, Clarke hurried to usher them towards the office across the room, pleasantries and offers of coffee being declined with little more than single word answers. Gratefully, her gentle knock was answered by the easy smile of her boss, Clarke breathing a sigh of relief after the pair had stepped inside as Charles dismissed her in the simple form of a door closing in her face.

  
  


////////////////

"Christ almighty, that woman is a piece of work."

Clarke held up a finger as Raven unloaded a teetering pile of notes and files onto her desk with a grunt. She pressed the phone closer to her ear and rolled her eyes at the voice coming over the speaker. 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm well aware what time it is… I know. As you can see from my phoning you from my place of employment, I am also here quite late. That's why, again, all I am asking you to do is to take down my information for your boss to see first thing in the morning. Please read it back to me."

Brown eyes twinkled with mirth as Raven watched Clarke cock two fingers to her temple and mimed pulling a trigger, reciting her information for the third time in the phone call despite already setting herself a reminder in her computer to call again tomorrow. 

The office was deserted at such a late hour, Clarke having stayed behind at Pike's request to at least touch base with every single contact he'd sent her throughout the day. Her throat was raw from endless talking and her eyes felt the burn of her computer screen, the dimmed overhead lights granting her burgeoning headache only so much of a reprieve. 

With a clipped goodbye and an insincere wish for a good evening, Clarke hung up the phone and deflated back in her seat. 

"Some people really shouldn't be allowed to operate telephones as a profession."

"Lovely day in the pit?"

"Talking to every egocentric moving part of the judicial system and trying to get them to rearrange their entire winter calendar? Mmm, better than a kick to the face."

"Well if it helps, having to sit three feet away from two of the smarmiest people I've ever met in my life felt like an actual kick to the face," Raven said as she finished up replacing all of her work things into their correct spots. 

"D'Angelo and Pike, or…" 

"Ha. Ha." Raven drawled as Clarke signed off her computer and joined her in gathering up their jackets and bags. "No. I'm talking about that blonde Cruella and her boy toy. Say what you will, but that woman today? Our new client? Literally a piece of shit."

"Whoa, what happened?" 

Raven shook her head as they started making their way across the darkened office toward the elevator. "Honestly, I don't even know why we took this case on. It's unreal, Clarke."

"Just tell me."

"Alright, calm down. So, you've heard of that Titus Tikes foundation, right? The charity thing for kids with disabilities and cancer and all that?"

"Yeah," Clarke nodded as she clicked off another bank of lights as they went.

" Well, this bitch-"

_"Clarke, may I see you in my office for a moment?"_

She stumbled to a halt as her knees locked up at the sound of the voice that drifted across the darkened office floor. 

Reality crashed back down around her with the elegant lilt of the request. So caught up in the mania of the day, all thoughts of the potential fallout from her snooping had completely slipped to the back of her mind. 

She hadn't even noticed the faint gleam of light that filtered from the office door sitting slightly ajar.

"Ooo, boss wants an _'after hours meeting'_ ," Raven joked quietly as she nudged Clarke lightly with her elbow. "See, I told you you weren't getting fired. They were just tense about the meeting."

"Yeah, you were right. Whatever. You have to come with me," Clarke pleaded in a rushed, harsh whisper.

"Dude, chill. It's probably just about the case. Pike probably forgot to send over a note or something."

"No no, you- I- You have to come with me. Please," she begged, helplessly reaching out as Raven ducked away toward the open elevators.

"Sorry, Clarke. Gotta run." Raven waved her phone for emphasis as she walked backwards with a grin. "I've got two missed calls from the missus. That’s freaking out level for her. I didn't have time to tell her I'd be late."

"Raven-"

"Love ya, sexy. Don't blow me off next time. _Play nice."_

The sing-song sound of her words died behind the closing metal doors as the elevator shut, leaving Clarke in the deafeningly quiet room. The thump and surge of blood whistled in her ears as she swallowed her nerves and gathered her courage to slowly turn and make her way toward the soft glow of the office doorway. 

It was fine. It'd be fine. 

Clarke at least feeling mostly confident with the theory that Lexa would not actually kill her in her own office. 

Lifting a shaky hand, Clarke pushed open the door and poked her head inside. Body poised to take off at the slightest glance of anything… feathery… Clarke released a shuddery breath at the sight of Lexa quietly scribbling away in a notebook. 

Her stomach flipped as Lexa looked up when Clarke gently coughed, eyes taking in a very flattering pair of glasses she had never seen Lexa wearing before. 

"There you are. Have a seat," Lexa smiled and gestured to the chair across from her, sharp gaze at odds with the relaxed air of her demeanor. "Close the door."

Clarke halted the few steps she had taken, hands flexing to stop their trembling as she wrestled with the internal call of fight, flight, or freeze. 

She knew in her mind she was probably safe. Or as safe as one could be in a darkened and deserted office space with a person who could inexplicably sprout wings...

Whatever. It'd be fine. 

Still feigning a brave face, Clarke crisply snapped the door shut and made her way over to one of the spare seats. She felt eyes on her every move, could feel the weight of them on her skin as she settled herself neatly and looked back with a steady gaze. 

"What can I do for you, Ms. D'Angelo?"

Green eyes widened with amusement, the smile on Lexa's lips stretching enough to reveal pearly white teeth as she set her pen aside and lazed back in her chair. 

"Now," Lexa chided, reaching up to remove her glasses and tossing them on the desk as well. "I think we're _far_ past formalities at this point, don't you agree?" 

The smoke of Lexa's voice slithered intoxicatingly over Clarke's senses, her words holding the timbre of an illicit understanding between them. 

Clearing her throat, Clarke straightened further. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"... Clarke. Don't."

"I-"

"I know you followed me. I know you saw me. Let's not play this game with each other."

The simple calm of Lexa's voice hung heavy in the air, the matter-of-factness of her whispered statement sounding so loud in Clarke's ears as she looked down. Heat clawed up her neck, sweat speckling her clammy skin as she sucked steadying breaths in through her nose and then eased them out through her mouth. 

Just the reminder of the stretch and expanse of lush dark wings had Clarke's gut curling in nauseating waves.

She was just this side of wanting to throw up. A distinct churning curdled her stomach, heart hammering under the feeling of eyes trained on her like injured prey as Clarke stared resolutely at her own lap. 

But what made it all the worse, what Clarke hated so much was how… affected she was by the feeling. All senses of fight or flight whirring within her brain being tamped down by a heat sliding over her skin, the embers of an ache deep between her thighs at remembering exactly what she'd seen. 

"Clarke," Lexa hummed again, the leather of her chair whining when she sat forward and thumped a gentle fingertip on the mahogany of her desk, her voice taking on the note of a pout. "You seemed so eager to enjoy watching me undress the other night, now you won't even look at me."

"I wasn't," Clarke defended immediately, head snapping up with a disgruntled frown. Red flared over her cheeks at the ghost of a smile painting Lexa's lips, as Clarke fumbled through a painfully inept attempt at defense. "I- That wasn't what I was doing."

"No?" Lexa asked and quirked her brow, the look thick with sarcasm. 

"... No."

Lexa nodded easily, chin coming to rest on her palm as she slung an elbow on her desk.

"So tell me then… As I sipped my wine, and slowly undid the buttons of my blouse…"

Clarke swallowed harshly, replaying the narrated scene move by move through her head and getting embarrassingly wet all over again. 

"When I unclasped my bra," Lexa continued, voice dipping into a husk that sent goosebumps racing up Clarke’s spine. "And your eyes followed my hands as they slipped over my tits, massaging them free from the day… Exactly which part of that was you not enjoying watching me getting undressed?"

Clarke couldn't argue, as desperately as she wanted to, mind hazy and floating on fragments of images as she failed to think of a single defense. 

Because she _had_ watched. 

Had practically committed each act to long term memory, and despite everything else… yes, she admitted to herself in an echo of her inner voice, she'd liked it more than she'd liked anything in a very _very_ long time. 

The cracking snap of fingers broke her out of her reverie, clouded eyes clearing in rapid blinks as Clarke realized exactly where she'd been staring. 

"I'm up here, gorgeous," Lexa grinned and pointed to her own face, seeming to revel in the furious blush that burned over the apples of Clarke's cheeks. "Don't get me wrong, I love feeling your eyes on me. Hell and heaven both know I've been practically begging for it since I started here."

"What?" Clarke very intelligently startled, head rearing back at the gently chuckled confession. 

Rolling her eyes with a haughty smile, Lexa leaned back in her chair again and motioned between them with a flippant hand. "I've been throwing myself at you for weeks, Clarke, my God. I realize you're a bit of a prude, but you can't possibly pretend you haven't noticed. I've done everything this side of hiking my skirt up and spreading myself over your desk."

Clarke was quickly realizing exactly how crude this woman could truly be when professional filters were cast aside.

Also unsettling, and incredibly fucking unfortunate, were the memories that particular statement drew up in her mind. Images of hot whispered words and unrelenting fingers, many of which involved being bent over the very desk sat between them. 

Crossing her legs at the fresh pulse of arousal, Clarke's movements stuttered a moment as a trim brow hitched and full lips pulled into a questioning smirk.

Clearing her throat, Clarke shook her head and desperately tried to save herself. 

"You're like that with every woman in the office. I mean you flirt with Raven constantly, I-... I didn't think I was anything special," she added lamely, valiantly shrugging off the images as she spoke because, _Jesus,_ she couldn't think about those thoughts in the moment. 

Lexa seemed to consider Clarke's words, silently pursing her lips before nodding. 

"Noted… Regardless" she continued, "now that we've agreed that you did indeed love looking at my tits," Lexa spoke, continuing loudly to drown out the sound of Clarke's instant objection, "let's move on to the _real_ crux of our issue. Shall we?"

The air froze in Clarke's lungs because… what could she possibly say to that? Pretend she didn't see how the skin had angrily parted? How she could practically hear the satisfied hiss escape Lexa's lips as inky blackness unfurled from beneath her skin? Or the unadulterated look of comfort and pleasure that slipped over Lexa's face as the giant wings stretched and fluffed themselves fuller? The one her mind had traitorously played over and over in her mind for the entirety of the last few days…

Clarke had prayed she hadn't been seen but knew that hope was in vain, an all but ridiculous notion given the very last image she'd witnessed before tearing off home. How Lexa had looked so pleased in that fraction of a second as they'd stared at each other directly through the window.

So seated there in Lexa's office, Clarke didn't really know how to react, nervously chewing at the swell of her bottom lip as Lexa simply smiled and tilted her head. 

"Cat got your tongue?" 

"What happened the other night," Clarke finally burst out in a torrent of words, shaking her head adamantly. "I am so unbelievably sorry. I never should've been there in the first place. It was so stupid. But, I- I promise. I promise I won't tell anyone. I swear it. Whatever- whatever that was, I won't tell anyone."

Lexa frowned at that, brows drawing into a deep furrow at the desperate, nervous energy that radiated from Clarke's entire body.

"I know you won't tell anyone, Clarke. I wasn't worried about that."

"But I-," Clarke stammered and frowned as well, tumbling over herself in half sentences and fractions of thought. "You called me in here. And. And this morning? I mean I figured with the- the weird smiles… There'd be... threats or something."

"Threats?" Lexa gasped with a shocked laugh. "Why in the world would I threaten you?"

"Because I, I _saw,"_ Clarke said, her words sounding more question than statement. "I saw your… you know."

"My, _you know,"_ Lexa snorted, relaxing back with an errant flick of her wrist. "Calm down, Clarke," she said with oddly comforting ease, a genuine smile crossing her face as she continued. "I'm not going to threaten you, or hurt you... And, no, I'm not worried about you telling anyone either. First of all, who would believe you?"

Which… was fair, Clarke thought... now that the woman had said it. 

"Second of all, I'm almost certain we just covered how desperately I want to fuck you. Killing you would kind of get in the way of that, don't you think?"

And then Clarke finally snapped. Panic and fear be damned, a strange feeling of disappointment mixed with heated, disgusted rage at Lexa's words. 

"Oh my god,” she thundered. “I'm not going to sleep with you just because you want payback for me perving on you."

Instead of the quick line Clarke expected in return, some sort of rebuttal or coercion from the filthy mouthed woman, all traces of amusement dropped from Lexa's face, replaced by a stony look of hurt. 

When Lexa spoke, her voice was as quiet as it was steady, jaw tight and eyes blazing with something close to sobering indignation. 

"There's a special place in Hell for people who do that sort of thing, _Clarke._ That was not what I meant, nor is that something I would ever expect from you, or force from you... Do not ever accuse me of that again. Do we understand each other?"

Silently, Clarke swallowed at the intensity of the blatant warning, nodding in agreement after a moment and ludicrously feeling bad for the apparently loathsome accusation. 

Because as much as she hated to admit it, she was quickly finding out the majority of her assumptions about the woman were… well, correct. Just not at all in the ways she had originally thought them. 

Yet again, it was annoying how Lexa so easily kept her feeling off balance. 

"Good," Lexa exhaled, batting her lashes as a small smile tugged at the edges of her lips. "It's always healthy to set personal boundaries in relationships."

Clarke couldn't stop the gasp of a disbelieving laugh at that, tucking her lips between her teeth to to contain her grin. 

_'Dammit.'_

"Now," Lexa said, lifting up from her seat and taking slow ambling steps around her desk. "Back to the main point. You saw me in a rather… vulnerable state. Which, strictly speaking, I get off on the idea of that. But considering you've avoided looking at me at any point today, I think I have a good idea how it made you feel. And that just won't do... So, I figured, perhaps it'd be better for me to _come_ to you instead. So to speak..." 

Her voice trailed off with a smirk, leaning back on the edge of her desk and stretching long legs out before her, as she eyed Clarke in her office chair. 

Clarke shifted as she squirmed in her seat, adjusting her position this way and that to make room for the woman now lounging in her space. 

The questions bloomed in her mind one after the other, fear giving way to morbid fascination. Because Lexa certainly didn't seem upset about the whole mess of a situation, and had basically told her as much, but the idea of seeing what she saw and being met with an understanding smile was unnerving. 

To say the least. 

"Go on, Clarke. I can see that gorgeous mind working overtime. So, just ask."

Her eyes jumped from toned calves to glinting green, Clarke's curiosity winning out in the suspended silence. "I… I couldn't find any… medical things that seemed like--"

"No, I suppose you wouldn't have," Lexa cut in, motioning down the front of herself. "Though I'd love to see a doctor's reaction to all this." 

"And then… I mean the only other thing I saw…"

"Keep going."

Clarke swallowed roughly at the slow nod, sucking in a fortifying breath as she forced the words out. "Angel? You're a- You're an angel."

The answering chuckle took her by surprise. 

"God, you are adorable," Lexa breathed, her smile saccharine and goading. A moment passed as Lexa dragged her eyes in long sweeps over the entirety of Clarke, her gaze calculating, but calm, and filled with obvious amusement. "... No, I'm not an angel."

"Oh," she blinked, feeling foolish as she slumped in confusion. "I just- I guess I assumed with the--"

"Well," Lexa interrupted with a shrug, "Not _anymore._ They don't really appreciate you keeping that moniker after you've been tossed into the fiery depths."

Clarke felt a lump swell in her throat as she choked back a rising taste of bile.

Lexa hummed and continued, folding her arms neatly across her waist. 

"I don't blame you for that being your first thought, though. But distinctly, no, I am not... Angels deal with the good of humanity. What _little_ there is of it around here, anyway," she mumbled pointedly. "And that's certainly not me. They live lives of servitude. And bowing, and scraping. Forever jumping to attention at the foot of the throne. Only to then spend day in, day out, simpering and lavishing attention on humans at someone else's bidding. I mean really. A millennia spent worshipping in thankless grace, to turn around and be expected to play babysitter to the world? No, thank you."

The tirade ended with a far off glare of flat eyes, full lips puffing with a disdainful scoff.

Clarke could feel the shift in the air, a metallic sourness coating her senses as the temperature seemed to jump several degrees. Whether from nerves or the actual contempt radiating off the woman in front of her, Clarke wasn't sure, as she reached up to gingerly wipe away a few beads of sweat from her brow. 

"Okay," Clarke tried again lightly. "Not an angel. I suppose that makes sense with the um, the uh, the whole, black wings look... But um, what exactly is it that you do then?"

And like that, the smile slipped back over Lexa's darkly beautiful face. 

"Whatever I want." 

"That doesn't- That's not what I meant, Lexa. I meant with the wings, and the… _you,"_ Clarke motioned in Lexa's general direction, eyes widening slightly as thought occurred to her. "You don't seriously expect me to believe you're the devil or something?"

"Oh, God, no," Lexa chuckled, nose scrunching as she pulled a face. "No no no... But you are getting… _warmer."_

"Lexa-"

"I'm a demon, gorgeous, c’mon. I honestly thought it'd be obvious."

Clarke tried her best to remain as calm as possible. 

It was ridiculous, the entire conversation was, Clarke screaming internally that this had to be some kind of deranged nightmare. Or possibly a prank at her expense? Because the implications of anything else made her feel dizzy and slightly woozy as Lexa continued to stare her down.

"Breathe, Clarke."

_Shit._

_'Right, that would explain the dizziness,'_ she thought to herself as she sucked in cooling lungfuls of perfumed air. 

"... A demon. You're really trying to tell me you're a demon. That’s what you’re saying?"

"Yes. I am a demon. A fallen. An expelled, whatever you want to call it, that is what I am… Just, egh, don't say 'a child of Satan'," Lexa tacked on almost as an afterthought. "That makes me think of Lucifer having sex and then birthing me out and, believe me, _no one_ needs that mental image."

"Lucifer. Of course," Clarke said in a huff of overwhelmed laughter. "As in the actual devil. As in the Morning Star."

" _The Morning Star,"_ Lexa mocked beneath her breath with a roll of her eyes. "So pretentious. He's always eaten that one up... When in reality it's more like 'Daddy's Boy who threw a grand scale hissy fit and never learned when to just shut up', but whatever. He's not my boss, so," she hummed and gave an errant wave of her hand, "go nuts with the names."

It took far longer than Clarke was proud of to realize that Lexa was being quite serious in her muttered answer, Clarke having waited, and waited, and embarrassingly waited for the punchline to come. 

For the laugh and snarky 'got ya', but as Lexa continued to stare in a pleased yet pitying gaze, it finally registered that this indeed was not a joke. 

"You're so full of shit."

Lexa burst out laughing, leaning back on her hands and smiling toward the sky. 

"Oh, that is fantastic," she sighed as the last few chuckles died down, head lolling forward as she looked at Clarke through hooded eyes. "I swear, if all humans were like you, I don't know if I would've told God where to shove it... It would've been more than worth it just to watch you go."

Gritting her teeth at the relentlessness of her flirting, because _really,_ right now? Clarke uncrossed her legs and sat forward with a snap. 

"Listen, if you would please just keep it in your pants for two seconds, can you stop with the bullshit and tell me exactly what's going? Because I've been having a mental breakdown over the last 36 hours and, frankly, I'm this close to losing my shit with you."

Lexa's eyes danced with amusement as they glanced to the thin gap between Clarke's held up fingers, tongue snaking out and wetting her full bottom lip in a slow pass. "You'll find I don't actually lie very often, despite what certain pastoral doctrines may say. Kind of takes all the fun out of it for me."

Clarke felt like her head was going to explode, despite how absolutely blank it was at that moment. It was almost surreal, sitting there and listening to the declaration, momentarily feeling like she was looking at herself outside of her body. 

Because what? 

The actual fuck? 

Was going on?

This could not be actually happening. 

Visions of thick dark wings aside, not a word from the woman's mouth was managing to make any sense to Clarke in that moment. While she prided herself on her faith, on carrying on the legacy of her father's beliefs, the idea of being in a room with a real life demon was absolutely ridiculous. 

"That," she started slowly, shaking her head in minute shifts as Lexa patiently waited, "can't be right. This cannot be real."

"Oh it's real. Wanna touch me just to make sure?" Lexa grinned with a wicked bend to her lips as she elegantly held a leg out.

Clarke chose to ignore the comment entirely. "I don't know how I can even begin to believe any of this."

"Why not? Only a few minutes ago you were apparently ready and willing to believe me to be an angel. Somehow now a demon seems so far-fetched? It's not really that hard to accept when you think about it," Lexa shrugged. "I know you've noticed me, Clarke. I know you see me more clearly than any of the other people in this hell hole… It's a shame really, how easily people are manipulated... An easy smile here and there, a few nice gestures and it's like you're a saint. I mean the bar is insanely low for who humanity considers good and bad."

Clarke opened her mouth to argue, stopping as Lexa dismissed whatever she was going to say with an easy hand in the air.

"As respectfully as I can say it, that wasn't a question. I get away with any and every thing I want in this place, and I haven't even been here a year. I botch paperwork constantly and get other people to screw things up for me on a daily basis… They do whatever I want, whenever I want, and all I have to do is smile and show a little bit of skin. And _God,_ they eat it up. I really don't even have to try."

Lexa paused for a moment, a soft sort of look covering her face. It was unsettling, how different it made her seem, hard edges turning rounder and an air of calm rolling outward from her entire being. 

"But then there's you. Who from day one didn't fall for any of that… If anything, it just put me more on your shit list. Which, honestly? I love. You don't take anything from anyone, but especially not me… You just go all menacing and grumpy faced whenever you're angry, while still managing to look like a sexy little librarian. And for all that is unholy, does that do it for me. I mean, sweet Jesus, Clarke, you have no idea."

Clearing her throat and focusing on the expulsion of illicit thoughts, Clarke shook her head at the stupidly widening grin. 

"So, what? You just… go around trying to… cause chaos in the world?"

"Ha!" 

The bark of laughter rumbled lazily from the back of Lexa's throat, a delighted expression flashing across her face before shifting into something softer. Something almost akin to affection, if not outright pity. 

"Have you even been listening?"

Lifting up from the spot where she had been leaning, Lexa took a few sauntering steps around the edge of her desk, pulling Clarke's attention toward the windows filled with the sprawling view of the city lights below. 

"Look around you, Clarke," Lexa declared, arms lifting wide as she spun on the spot. "Look at these people. At the entire world. You really think _I_ need to inspire them? Turn on a television sometime... Wars, famine, genocide. Abuse. Neglect. Violence... Please, spare me. Give credit where credit is due…"

Clarke sat silently as Lexa's eyes became unfocused, a light sneer coloring her otherwise calm sounding words.

"I mean really, let's be honest with each other here for a minute. This planet is a joke. This whole species is a joke…" Hands thudded against Lexa's sides as she dropped her arms and smiled in bemused dismay. "The people they elect, the _celebrities_ they fawn over, the people in power that they practically worship? The very same ones who hoard massive amounts of wealth and ignore the suffering around them every day… These people hate each other. For what gender they are, for where they're born, who they have the audacity to fall in love with. Even for something as ridiculous as the color of their fucking skin... The pain and torture they inflict on each other over the most unbelievably idiotic things, and you assume _I_ have to work to create chaos among them? You believe I have to work _at all?"_

Clarke swallowed roughly at the dark look shattering her to pieces, the truth in the weight of each sentence dropping like a stone against her chest. 

"Think about it, Clarke. I sit at my desk and I watch some of the foulest of human kind traipse through this very office, sit exactly where you're sitting, being treated to afternoons of luxury and privilege at the direction of your very own boss. And you think it's me who is to blame for all that?" she gestured out the window behind her. "No, Clarke. I'm not here to create chaos. Because I don't need to... Your people do quite well enough on their own."

Clarke was quiet for a moment as she let the words settle, watching as Lexa seemed to breathe and collect herself.

"... Then what are you here for?" she finally croaked.

Full lips tipped into a deeper angle of amusement as the blown forests of her eyes flashed bright in the yellowed light of the office. 

"For a good time." 

Clarke watched as Lexa slid back into the space in front of her, the relaxed air of her leaning so casually against her desk infuriating in its ability to keep Clarke's rapt attention despite her entire being feeling alert. Long legs stretched out again as Lexa shifted her weight to her palms, a soft hum accompanying her words as Clarke's eyes helplessly dragged over the expanse of her body. 

"Now," Lexa said. "Enough about me. Tell me about you."

"What?" Clarke breathed, voice sounding deeper in her ears than she was used to and her gaze clouding at the sight of thighs sliding together as Lexa shifted to gracefully toe off her heels and slide them back beneath her desk. 

"What are you here for?"

Clarke's eyes snapped up at the question, words of dismissal bubbling and dying on her tongue when long fingers lifted from the desk, watching as Lexa trailed over the curve of her chest and up the column of her throat. The jut of her jaw twisted sinfully as Lexa tilted her head to run hands further into her hair, deftly pulling a few unseen pins free from their hold to release silken brown locks in a tumbling cascade. 

Swallowing a thick lump down in her throat, Clarke squirmed in her seat as Lexa shifted fingers through the thick curls, her hair somehow managing to look fuller and wilder and yet entirely all the more perfect when she was done. 

"I don't know… I guess I'm just trying to be a good person," she whispered.

Lexa hummed, the edge of her lip tucked neatly between gleaming white teeth sending warmth pooling in Clarke's stomach. 

"Well isn't that adorably valiant."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," Lexa grinned as twinkling eyes continued to stare Clarke down. "I adore that about you. I'm just saying, now that you know… I think it'd be a lot more fun if you were to be bad with me."

"I'm not-... No." Clarke hated the struggled choke of her words, tongue feeling thick as Lexa's foot slowly slid up the length of her calf. 

Lexa shook her head with a chuckle, smile at war with the playful pout she was trying to pull off. "Oh come on. What sounds better? Being a good girl paper pusher who jumps every time Charles sends an email... or having a little fun with me?"

"Stop it," Clarke huffed, rolling her eyes and diligently ignoring the fire blooming across her skin. "What the hell is even happening? You just told me you were a demon for Christ's sake."

"So? We all have baggage," Lexa shrugged. "C'mon, gorgeous. Be naughty with me."

"You sound ridiculous saying it like that. We're not five." 

Silence settled between them, a vibrating kind of silence that slithered through Clarke's veins. Her lungs felt heavy in her chest as she worked to keep up the air of unaffected calm.

Against her better judgment, against the screaming of her every instinct, Clarke slowly looked up into the peacefully amused face.

"You wanna know what I think, Clarke?" Lexa purred. "... I think deep down… you wanna fuck me so bad you can _taste_ it." 

The sharp inhale of Clarke's lungs only served to make Lexa's grin grow wider, brow quirking with satisfaction in time to a sharp pulse between Clarke's thighs. 

"Oh my G- Lexa! You can't just say things like that... _Fuck._ This is worse than the dreams."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Clarke realized how badly she'd just messed up. She glanced up to see a renewed vigor to the glint in Lexa's stare, their gleam intensifying as her eyes widened and lips slowly dropped open. 

Lexa sucked in a quiet gasp, unadulterated joy coating her words, mixed with the faux lilt of scandal. 

_"... Excuse me?"_

_"Don't."_

"No no, I insist. What is this about dreams, Ms. Griffin?"

"Lexa-"

"What kind of dreams?"

“Oh my _God."_

Horrified and upset with just how much the proximity was affecting her, how her traitorous brain took a moment to fully appreciate the dip of newly revealed cleavage, Clarke scowled as best as she could.

"Please," Lexa begged, leaning even closer in her glee. "You have to. Spare no detail, I wanna think about this later when I come."

"Jesus, what is wrong with you?"

"Demon," Lexa shook her head dismissively. _"Tell me."_

Clarke rolled her eyes at the needy sounding whine, absolutely hating the traitorous effect such puppy dogged eyes and pouty full lips had on her.

Releasing a small sigh that she firmly told herself was a scoff, Clarke deflated back into the chair and buried her face in her hands. "I cannot believe this is happening."

Color flooded her cheeks as she glanced back up, twinkling green boring into her with ecstatic zeal.

How and why she could never just keep her shit together around this woman, this literal demon of a woman, Clarke didn't know. It was obnoxious how easily everything seemed to slip through her fingers, through the loose sling of her lips, every time Lexa so much as breathed in her direction. It was infuriating in every sense of the word.

And yet, she still managed to always lose all sense of self-preservation at the slightest provocation. 

"Oh, stop acting like that," Lexa tsked playfully and nudged Clarke's calf with her foot. "I think I've shared more than enough today to earn me at least _something._ Besides, this is a huge deal for me."

"I'm glad my mortification is such a joyous occasion for you."

"Yes," Lexa nodded like it should be obvious. "It is. Do you have any idea how many times I've gotten myself off while thinking about you? Finding out you have dirty, filthy sex dreams about me is delightful."

Clarke frowned at the brows wagging at her with a suggestive leer, inhaling a calming breath before tossing her hands up slightly. "Yes, alright. Fine. I have had dreams. You're objectively attractive and I haven't had… companionship, in a while."

"Companionship? You make it sound like we're doing needlepoint in these dreams." 

"Well excuse me if I don't necessarily enjoy being as crass as you."

"Which is a shame, really," Lexa sighed with a renewed pout. "That mouth? It looks like it's begging for all sorts of wonderfully terrible things."

"Not that I think I want to know, but what does that even mean?"

Lexa slowly leaned forward, pupils blown and locked onto Clarke as she settled a hand on either arm of the chair and drew close. Face barely an inch away, Clarke swallowed at the serious look that settled over Lexa's features, watching long lashes flutter as she practically purred her whispered words. 

"It _means_ that from the first moment I saw you sitting at your desk, with your perfect little collared shirt, and that sweet little braid... _all_ I have thought about doing is finding out what you taste like when you moan." 

Lexa tilted her head to the side, chin lifting slightly to bring her just that much closer, Clarke feeling the soft, hot fan of her breath across her face.

"... Lex-"

"Tell me. How do I make you moan in your dreams?"

Clarke couldn't breathe and yet felt the world spin with how fast she was pulling in air, her lungs squeezing tighter than her thighs, as green eyes roved over her face. She couldn't help her gaze from dropping down plump lips, the rich pink skin looking so soft and supple and tender. 

"Where do you dream about me touching you?" Lexa husked, nose brushing at Clarke's before trailing over the curve of her jaw. "Tell me, gorgeous."

"... Everywhere," Clarke breathed as her eyes fell shut when lips ghosted over the shell of her ear, barely a touch but enough to ignite every inch of her body. "All over me."

"I want that too… What else?"

"You're… you're always so rough with me. But it feels good. Like I need it."

"Tsk, I don't think I'd be rough with you," Lexa lamented in her ear, lips barely closing over the sensitive skin of her lobe before pulling away enough to speak. "At least not the first time… The first time, I’d beg you to let me taste you."

Clarke felt a quiet whimper rip through her chest, hips jumping at the scorching lap of a tongue dragging over her skin in a lazy flick. 

"I really think you should kiss me, Clarke."

And that was enough to bring at least a sliver of reality back to Clarke's senses. 

Inhaling a sharp breath, Clarke jolted enough to put some distance between them, chest working easier as Lexa pulled back with a sly look. Dark eyes shimmered as Clarke cleared her throat and gently shook her head. 

"That's not happening."

Legs shifted and drew Clarke's attention as Lexa slung an ankle over the other. She felt her body respond to the skin so tantalizingly close; smooth and inexplicably shiny with a light bronze to its tint. Images of having those legs wrapped snugly around her hips jumped to the front of her mind, Clarke balling her hands into fists and tucking them further into her sides to resist reaching out. 

Instead she worked to even her breaths, blinking a few times to try and get her head back on straight.

"I won't kiss you first," Lexa murmured with an easy flit of her brow. "But I promise you, when you finally give in to what we both know you want, it's going to be better than what you dreamed… And I can be patient."

With that Lexa pushed off the arms of the chair and righted herself, turning to leisurely walk back around her desk. 

"A demon with sexual boundaries and a moral code, who knew," Clarke feebly joked, running a shaky hand through her hair as she watched Lexa sit back in her chair and pick up her pen.

"Well. ‘Morals’ is definitely pushing it," Lexa smiled, shifting papers to presumably continue her previously forgotten work. "But I meant what I said. When I do end up fucking you, I want it to be because you're fucking me too."

"Oh my God, you're such a pig," Clarke huffed, shooting up out of her seat in disgust and started toward the door. "I'm leaving."

"Okay," Lexa chuckled, waving at the infuriated look Clarke sent over her shoulder. "I'm glad we had this chance to chat. It'll be nice to finally get rid of this charade and just be myself with you."

"Yeah, thrilling. I'm going to go continue my meltdown at home now. Goodnight," she said, violently flinging the door open to step out.

"Night, gorgeous. Oh, and, Clarke?"

Clarke turned expectantly at the threshold, feeling a renewed ache in her core at Lexa's darkly playful grin staring back.

"About us?" Lexa motioned with a single finger between them. "I'm not going to stop trying for this. At least not until you tell me to."

Clarke stared for a long moment, chest heaving as she played the words over and over in her head. 

With a final glare, Clarke pivoted out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.   
  
  
  


//////////////////////


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time:
> 
> Lexa's such a little shit
> 
> Next up:
> 
> Late nights at the office never do seem to go as planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, A ///TRIGGER WARNING///:
> 
> Minor mentions of child death. Nothing explicit in the slightest, no depictions or anything like that, but it's mentioned in a discussion so here's the warning.
> 
> Second, I have read every single comment and they are amazing. I will answer them, I promise, I've just been trying to get this chapter out for you guys. But know, in no uncertain terms, they've helped me keep going through writing this, and the mess that has been this election. Thank every one of you 💙
> 
> Third, HUGE thanks to my beta. Without her this would've been shit. And my first readers for the amazing feedback and encouragement 🥺 ily.
> 
> Now, go sin 😈

"Jesus, _fuck."_

"Definitely not Jesus."

Clarke groaned and dug her nails in deeper, relishing the quick hiss at the obvious sting. But then her groan rolled more into a pathetic sounding whine, fingers grasping desperately for an entirely different reason. 

Hands gripping her thighs tightened as Lexa sped up, Clarke's eyes screwing shut at the new pace. Her muscles trembled as she fought to stay upright on the edge of the desk, the sweat and arousal-slicked skin of her ass sliding on its surface with each thrust. 

Lips nipped and sucked and painted angry rose-colored promises along the column of her throat, a wayward scrape of teeth causing her to clench tightly around the toy sheathed inside.

"It's okay, Clarke," Lexa whispered in her ear, the sweet hum of her voice barely noticeable over the wet sound of their fucking and the clink of buckles that kept the harness slung around Lexa's hips. "Trust me. Let go."

Clarke moaned and mindlessly released her hold at the command, her muscles screaming in relief as she let herself fall backward. She tensed, spine bowing and body bracing itself as she expected to feel the crash of wood against her back.

Only the feeling never came.

Silken plumes wrapped around the dip of her waist, cradling her splayed body in a gentle hold. Feathers and warmth enveloped her, tickling at her skin as they flexed under her weight to lift and hold her suspended above the desk. Clarke's eyes fluttered open in confusion as a hand cupped her cheek, her gaze finding brilliant forests staring back. 

Green rings seemed to glow within the dark hammock of black wings, a fire simmering within the depths of blown pupils, as a sinister smile twisted at Lexa's lips.

"Just like that, gorgeous. Just let go."

Before Clarke could parcel meaning to those words, strong hands flew to her hips again and grasped her in a possessive hold. 

Lexa's hips gave a few sluggish jogs, the new angle causing Clarke eyes to roll with each push. 

And then Lexa grinned up through lowered lashes, the sharp slant of her lips a silent warning before her hips shot forward in quick fire snaps, wings and hands pulling Clarke roughly down onto each thrust. 

Clarke felt her entire body jolt with each pump, head lolling back as delirious sounds of pleasure slipped from her lips. 

She felt like a rag-doll of a person, hands limply clutching the edge of the desk beneath her as she was moved and fucked to the tempo of Lexa's every whim. 

Muscles clenched and relaxed under the heels Clarke had unconsciously dug into the back of Lexa's thighs. Encouraging and clinging onto the last vestiges of her sanity, as Clarke did whatever she could to come out of this in one piece. The loud clap of skin rang through the office mixing with the heavy scent of sex and the deep timbre of quiet growls.

Wings curled and bent her forward, Clarke's mouth falling open with obscene-sounding moans as she felt plump lips wrap around the pebbled skin of her nipple.

"Oh my God."

Lexa hummed, releasing the breast with a pop, "... Well, that's better than Jesus I suppose."

"Shu-- _Fuck,"_ Clarke tried and then swallowed, eyes rolling closed at the sound of her voice, croaking and deep, as she struggled to speak through the relentless thrusting of hips. "Shut the fuck up, Lexa."

Lexa simply smiled, a small chuckle rumbling through her throat as dark wings pulled Clarke closer. 

Chest heaving with panted breaths, Clarke felt small, pert breasts and achingly hard nipples press deliciously against her own. She whined and sunk her fingers into the thick mane of Lexa's hair to steady herself at the sudden change in position. 

She hissed at feeling so full, her lungs collapsing as Lexa pushed her hips forward and up, to sheathe herself as tightly inside of Clarke as she could.

"That's really no way to speak to your God, Clarke."

Clarke groaned as Lexa started to move in gentle rolling motions without pulling out, her stomach flexing and clenching with each dip and thrust forward. The grinding of Lexa's body stirred and rocked the toy seated so deeply inside of Clarke, its flared head and ridges massaging her walls and stretching her with pleasure.

"Fuck, Lex," Clarke exhaled, her head dropping forward. She shook when Lexa tilted her hips just so, bringing the head to rest against a spot that had electric bursts popping behind Clarke's eyes.

"... That's better."

She clung to Lexa, knuckles white with her grip on sweat-slicked skin and midnight-shaded feathers, as her thighs squeezed the hips working between them. Gasps bloomed from her lips as she clenched around the toy, body coiling tight with each grinding press. 

"I think you're about to come." 

Clarke heard the words, husked and heavy in the air around them, as the mouth dragging up the column of her throat whispered against her skin. Lips slid to suckle at her ear, teeth nipping lightly before pulling away. 

"I'm barely even fucking you right now. But you just can't help it. You can't help but want to come all over me, can you? To come apart for your _savior."_

Obsidian pools stared hungrily as both women panted into the small space between them, Clarke's eyes flitting between Lexa's and her reddened, plump lips as she spoke. 

"Talk to me, gorgeous. Confess your sins. Are you gonna come? Right here, with me buried inside you?" 

"Oh _god,"_ Clarke moaned, her body bending and hips grinding in choppy jerks, cradled in the sturdy seat of feathers, riding Lexa as she felt herself start slip over the edge. "Fuck, right there."

"That's it," Lexa purred as her hand shot down to messily rub at Clarke's clit. "Just like that."

With a shuddering breath, her entire world exploded--

"Do you have any aspirin?"

Clarke sucked in a sharp gasp as she startled at the deep voice, her teeth biting down on her lips, her legs trembling as she swallowed back a moan. 

Her core pulsed, and hips squirmed as she felt her inner muscles weakly clench around nothing through the ghost of her release, the reality of what the fuck was actually happening crashing down around her. 

Clarke blinked rapidly through the fog of her mind, having somehow lost herself to the memory of her dream from that morning. Quietly replaying it all morning despite herself, Clarke had no genuine idea when she'd completely disengaged from the bustle of the room around her.

The warm sting of mortification pricked at her skin, her stomach sinking with each pressing second, even as the meager pangs of pleasure still ricocheted through her body.

Staring up into the confused face looking down at her from the other side of her desk, Clarke wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and disappear. Beyond having no actual idea what the hell the man had just said to her, fully wrapping her mind around the fact that she had just fallen so deeply into a sex-laden daydream about Lexa, and that she had had a minor orgasm at her desk, made her want to die a very quick death.

Or scream in lust drenched frustration. 

"What-" she tried instead, stopping to clear her throat of the breathiness of her voice, as she fought to get her shit together. "What did you say, Finn?"

"I asked if you have an aspirin?" he repeated, frowning at her before leaning a hand on her desk. "You okay?"

"Yeah. What? Why? Of course I am. Why?" Clarke tripped out, mentally planning her own funeral to take place just as soon as he walked away. 

"You look flushed," Finn said, reaching a hand out toward her forehead. "And jittery. Think you're coming down with something?"

Quickly lifting a hand to block him, Clarke ducked away with her best attempt at an appeasing smile.

"No, no, it's… warm. In here. I'm fine," she struggled, shaking her head as she moved to dig through one of her drawers looking for her stash of pain relievers. "Anyway, you're the one asking for aspirin. What's wrong?"

"Got another damn headache," Finn sighed as she handed him two tablets. "They're driving me nuts."

Clarke frowned at that, her eyes immediately darting to the closed door across the office before looking back up. "You're having a lot of headaches?"

"Yeah, and random migraines. It's getting really annoying." He paused and tossed the pills back and dry swallowed them. "I've gone through like, a full bottle of ibuprofen in the last two weeks."

"Oh jes--… You should see a _doctor,_ Finn. I mean that doesn't sound healthy at--"

"It's probably just allergies," he interrupted and rubbed his temples before letting a small smile fall over his face. "But hey, it got you to be my savior."

Her stomach twisted with an echo of arousal and self-revulsion at the word, the reminder of exactly what she had been feeling when he'd first walked up.

If she actually liked him, she'd have thanked him for his unique libido-killing prowess, but as it was, the awkward air of his boyish grin only served to have her searching for an escape route. 

"It's just aspirin, Finn," she said, tossing the bottle in question back into her drawer and closing it with a snap. 

"Still," he shrugged and leaned against her desk again. "Saved me from terrible pain. I'm pretty sure that means I'm forever in your favor."

"... Excuse me?"

"Isn't that how it works? You save someone from something and then they're indebted to you?"

"Finn," she sighed, "seriously, it's just aspirin. Don't worry about it."

"Nah, I definitely think I owe you," he barreled on. "Maybe… you could let me pay you back tonight?... Finally let me buy you that dinner like I've wanted to since I started here."

"Finn--"

"C'mon. It'll be fun, I know this great Thai place you'd love. We could go tonight--"

"No you couldn't, Mr. Collins."

Sweet Jesus Christ in heaven.

Clarke managed to bite back her groan, her eyes sliding closed at the voice that floated over her shoulder. 

The air around her shifted as Lexa leaned to rest a hip on Clarke's desk, and casually settled in right beside her. Clarke's eyes opened at the faint crinkle of paper, her gaze landing expectantly on the perfectly decorated cupcake sitting in the middle of her desk. 

A week.

It was the same routine, day after day, for the entirety of the last week.

While Lexa had spent the majority of the days locked away in her office, her, Charles, and Raven taking statements and strategizing from clock-in to well past clock-out, not a day had passed without a personalized delivery of the treat. Whether dropped off in passing with a simple smile below the hang of dark sinful eyes, or conveniently waiting for her when she'd return from a break, Clarke could count on the sugary offering every single day. 

And what was worse, she wasn't getting sick of them. 

Quite the opposite, in fact. 

Guilty pleasure as they may have been, Clarke had somehow grown to depend on the cream cheese-frosted sweet as a midday pick-me-up. She was annoyed how she had started to look forward to the small indulgence, her mind and stomach flipping wherever it'd appear. 

Which. Was exactly how she'd ended up in the hell of a situation she was currently enduring.

Because along with the addition of the daily gifting of cupcakes, her sex-saturated dreams had begun to bleed into most of Clarke's waking hours. The thought or sight alone of the little cakes set off an almost pavlovian response. She'd find her red velvet-fluffed thoughts drifting to truly dangerous places, one thought leading to the next and ultimately leaving her entirely a mess.

Literally and figuratively, she grimaced to herself, cheeks pinking as she shifted in the wetness that she tried to ignore. 

"What?" Finn asked as shook herself back to reality. "Why not?"

"Because," Lexa said as she looked at him with bored eyes, "I need you to head over to a client's office this afternoon, and then there's a list of files you need to review by tomorrow. If you'd actually check your emails in a timely manner, rather than using the office as your personal Tinder, you'd know that."

Clarke really couldn't stop the deep roll of her eyes at the hypocrisy of that. 

Finn pulled a face, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth and mouthing a small 'yikes' toward Clarke. 

"Sorry, Ms. D'Angelo," he mumbled with a chagrin sort of smile and straightened. "I was just distracted, but I'll get right on it."

Lexa continued to stare at him for an awkward silent moment, face stoic yet expectant as he shifted on the spot. 

"... You can go now."

Clarke released a suffering sigh, restraining herself from burying her face in her hands. Or shoving the arrogant woman off of her desk for situating Clarke in the middle of this ridiculous, one-sided pissing contest. 

Instead, she cleared her throat and directed a soft smile across her desk. "Uh, Finn, I do need to get back to work myself, so… But I hope you get to feeling better."

"Yeah, of course," Finn nodded, grinning as he pushed away and started walking back toward his own area. "And thanks again. I definitely owe you."

Before she could argue that point yet again, he sent her a small wave, spinning on his heel and leaving the pair alone. 

"Father above, that man is an idiot."

Clarke huffed an annoyed sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she remembered who was still lazed at her side. "Do you always have to be so rude?"

"Yes. Did you ever actually find him attractive?"

"Lexa."

"Don't answer that, I don't want to know," Lexa said with a wave of her hand. "Anyway. What did he want? Other than pathetically coming onto you again."

Clarke snorted and swiveled her chair to face Lexa directly, fully intending on delivering a scathingly choice of words. She froze for just a moment, eyes unconsciously darting up and down the length of Lexa's body as the retort died in her throat.

Annoyance gave way to the low-roiling heat Clarke had begun to accept would always scorch through her in Lexa's presence. Because in the week since their 'meeting', Lexa had seemingly decided it was her life's mission to kill Clarke through sexual arousal by any means necessary.

Skirts became tighter and hemlines far shorter, blouse buttons came undone a further one, or two notches every other day. The entire week Clarke was treated to Lexa parading around the office in outfits that flagrantly disregarded even the semblance of propriety, long legs and smooth plains of skin constantly on display whenever she had a free moment away from her office. 

Except today, Lexa had apparently decided on a suit. And somehow, the effect managed to be so much more devastating than even the shortest of skirts.

Clarke's eyes dragged up from the pointed toe of high black heels, along fitted pants that wrapped around Lexa's hips like a glove. A matching charcoal vest hugged her waist so tightly, Clarke imagined what it would feel like to run her hands over the smooth curve of her ribs. Her gaze wandered further up to the vest's low-scooped neckline, the cut of it sitting _just so,_ to gently cup and lift the swell of Lexa's breasts. 

A scrap of black lace peeked through the crimson gap of her blouse, the buttons open and fabric relaxed to leave a fair amount of cleavage deliciously on display. With the cuffed sleeves of her shirt crisply rolled up her forearms, hair hanging in full and wild tendrils over her shoulder as she leaned on Clarke's desk, Lexa seemed every bit the picture of casual confidence.

She looked feminine, and powerful, and like the walking personification of unadulterated sex. 

Eyes snapping back up at realizing she'd zoned out, Clarke shot a disgruntled frown at the pleased and mischievous face looking back. Striving for an air of nonchalance, Clarke shook her head as she willed her mind to behave itself. 

"Not that it's any of your business, but he just wanted some pills."

"Pills?" Lexa gasped in a whisper, hand clutching her chest in faux scandal. "My word. Are you hustling drugs in the office, Ms. Griffin?"

"Obviously," Clarke deadpanned. "Big pill pusher. My turf is every desk between accounting and human resources. Callie supplies marketing and finance."

"Ooo. My sexy little kingpin."

Clarke reddened as Lexa dropped her hand and gazed at her with a mock-adoring look.

"What did you want, Lexa?"

Lexa bit her lip and released a deep chuckle, crossing her ankles as she leaned more heavily on the desk. "I believe I asked first, _Clarke._ What did Finn come over here for?"

"And I told you. He was having a headache and asked for something for it."

"What'd you give him?"

"Why do you care?"

"Humor me."

Clarke glared up at her for the pressing line of questions. "Aspirin. I gave him aspirin. Happy now?"

Her face screwed up in confusion as Lexa tucked her lips inward, releasing a small snort as she leaned up and glanced across the room and then back. "Wait. You gave him aspirin? For his headache?"

"Yes," Clarke replied slowly, a sinking feeling dipping in her gut at the sheer delight radiating off the woman beside her. "... Why?"

"Nothing, nothing," Lexa waved her off. "… Just… A bit of poetic justice, don't worry about it."

"... Oh my god," Clarke said as something clicked, eyes narrowing as Lexa gazed at her with pleased amusement. "... You did something."

"I do a lot of things, gorgeous. You'll have to be more specific."

"I wasn't crazy," she breathed, voice lowered just loud enough for Lexa to hear. "What I saw… You did hit him, didn't you?"

Dark green eyes shimmered as Lexa silently smiled back.

"Oh my God. What did you do to him?"

Lexa remained quiet for several beats, her gaze boring into Clarke's as she seemed to think over what to say. Eventually, her lips twisted as she shrugged with a sigh.

"Nothing he hasn't had coming to him for a very long time." 

Clarke felt her stomach twist as Lexa uncrossed her legs and walked around to the other side of the desk. 

"Now, besides seeing your stunning face for a few glorious moments, my visit here did have an actual purpose."

"Lexa--"

"I'm going to need you this evening. Can you please be in my office at four? Or close to four? We'll probably be working late, just a heads-up."

Clarke stared up at her incredulously, mouth slightly ajar as she listened to the request. 

"... Oh fuck that."

Lexa burst into a short peal of laughter, tilting her head and sighing fondly as she braced palms against the front of Clarke's desk. 

"God, I really do enjoy you... But seriously, I need you. I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to-… Well. That's not true," Lexa corrected with a thoughtful shake of her head, "yes I would. But I actually do need you for work today. Charles got called away just now for… something. I don't know, I wasn't listening because I don't care. But, unfortunately, Raven has to leave at four, and with him gone as well, my hands are tied… And not in the fun way."

"You have got to be kidding me," Clarke sighed, deflating back into her seat as she realized she was slowly being backed into a corner.

Still.

She tried. 

"You really can't get a paralegal to help you? An intern? Literally, any other minion we have in this building?"

Lexa looked down at her with a stony, blank face.

"I would rather eat glass," she said flatly, a trim brow flitting up to emphasize Lexa's point. "Besides, you put up with Charles on a regular basis and I need that kind of endurance when dealing with this woman. If for no other reason than I don't end up strangling her in my own office. I hate cleaning up messes at work."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing. Listen. I would never dream of pulling rank here but seriously, if you don't show, Charles will be pissed and I don't want to deal with his shit tomorrow. Okay?... And it'll be fine. I'll be on my best behavior the entire time. Demon's honor," Lexa swore, holding up three fingers with a grin. 

"Seriously?" Clarke leveled at her with a dubious look. 

"Would you have preferred if I'd said I'll be a _good girl?"_

" _Lexa-"_

"Look at that," Lexa ignored her, sending a cursory glance to her bare wrist. "Gotta run."

"I haven't even-"

"Raven's been stuck in there with that woman and her caveman escort for ten minutes. God willing, she'll have done my job for me."

"Wait, no, Lexa--"

"Four o'clock, okay? I'll have Raven leave all of her notes so you can jump right in. Thanks, Clarke." 

Clarke lightly slammed a fist down on her desk as Lexa turned to leave, angrily spinning her chair around to stare out of the window behind her. She glared out at the expanse of the city below, watching the glint of sunshine twinkle off the metal bends of the skyscraper landscape as she fumed. 

With a deep inhale, her eyes fell shut at the scent of spicy perfume enveloping her senses, the fine hairs on her neck standing on end as the air shifted around her again. Soft lips pressed to the shell of her ear, pillowy and slightly chapped, as whispered-smokey words curled around her.

"By the way? I don't know exactly what had you so turned on earlier, but it's terribly distracting to feel you like that while I'm trying to work."

Clarke's breath hitched as she felt the warm breath fan across her skin as Lexa nuzzled delicately at her neck. 

_"Keep going."_

With just the ghost of a kiss right below her ear, the hot mouth pulled away, leaving a trembling Clarke to her torrid humiliation and renewed wishes for a quick and painless death. 

/////////////

Clarke could say a lot of things about herself. 

A lot of qualities that she prided herself in, things she would wholeheartedly attest to being grand strengths of character and poise. 

Unfortunately, patience wasn't one of them.

The day felt like it slinked by in a series of long, elastic moments. One minute feeling like five, shifting into gaps of twenty minutes disappearing unnoticed, as her eyes continuously flitted to the tiny ticking clock on the corner of her computer screen. She hated the feeling, a damoclean sort of anxiety ebbing and following as she vacillated between flustered dread and simply wanting to face whatever circus laid waiting for her at four. 

Because Clarke knew how this was probably going to go, mind already picturing that damn smirk as she gathered a few supplies and rose from her desk. She figured 3:54 was close enough as it was, deciding to bite the proverbial bullet and just get it over with. 

Walking to the office across the way, Clarke sucked in a calming breath, diligently telling herself that she could and would keep this all very professional, silently thanking God for the buffer of the client. 

She raised her fist to knock on the dark oak door and announce herself, only for it to fly open just before she could react. Clarke yelped as her knuckles gently rapped on a decidedly soft, noticeably bouncy surface instead. 

She snatched her hand back, cheeks flaming as two faces gawked at her in amusement; one quietly bursting into snickering, the other blazing with delighted debauchery. 

"Well that's certainly not how I anticipated you touching my breasts for the first time."

"I am _so_ sorry, Lexa. Ms. D'Angelo! Oh my God," Clarke groaned and fumbled, slapping the offending hand over her brilliantly red face as Lexa stepped aside to clear the path for Raven. 

"Good job, Griff," Raven chortled as she passed, ignoring Clarke's hissed a muffled 'Shut up' as Raven patted her shoulder. "Really going for that employee of the month, huh?"

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Yeah, you do that," Raven nodded and kept walking, leaving Clarke frozen in the threshold of the office with a parting, _"Have fun."_

"Bye, Raven," Lexa called over Clarke's shoulder as she reached up and gently dragged Clarke's hand away from her face. "And good luck."

"Thanks, boss lady."

Clarke finally let her eyes slide open, swallowing down her mortification enough to look at Lexa again. "I'm sorry, I- The door just--"

"Calm down, Clarke. You _know_ I'm not upset," Lexa interrupted with a grin, taking a small step closer and lowering her voice. "That'll probably end up being the highlight of my day... And yours, after this, I'm sorry to say. But right now, just stay quiet and try to ignore the overwhelming feeling of needing to bathe in antiseptic. All I need you to do is take notes of what they say."

"Why don't you just record all this?" she asked, having wondered for the hundredth time that week. "I mean, wouldn't that be easier than writing everything down, tying everyone up?"

Lexa sighed with a roll of her eyes and nodded. "Of course it would. As much as I love your company, I too realize how stupid this is, Clarke. But this pain in the ass requested no recordings and now, here we are. So, just follow my lead so we can get her the fuck out of my office as quickly as possible."

With that, Lexa whirled around on the spot, Clarke catching the flash of her face morphing into pleasant professionalism. 

"Alright, let's get back to it Ms. Colden," Lexa said with a flourish, gesturing to Clarke to come in behind her. "By the way, this is Ms. Griffin, she'll be taking over for the rest of the meeting. But I assure you, she's every bit as professional and discreet as Ms. Reyes-Woods. If not better."

"Ha," Clarke tutted as she moved "Well, I wouldn't impugn Raven's-"

"Yes, that's fine. May we move this along?" the woman, Ms. Colden, cut in, the impatient slice of her voice causing Clarke's mouth to click shut. 

"Give her a moment, Nia. She hasn't even sat down."

Clarke met Lexa's calming shade of green over the top of the client's head as Lexa rounded her desk, reading the minute shake of her head and look of annoyed disdain loud and clear. Taking a centering breath, Clarke remembered Lexa's instructions and stayed quiet, instead finishing making her way over to the makeshift workstation off to the side.

She took a moment to orient herself. Flipping through a short stack of legal pads and clicking into the tablet set up beside them, she thanked every deity she could think of for Raven's anal retentive system of organization. It only took a few minutes for Clarke to understand her system enough to replicate it, color-coding and shorthand helping her pick up exactly where Raven had left off.

Mentally scrapping her previous plans for Raven's vengeful murder, Clarke grabbed the open pad and a pen and looked over expectantly to let them know she was ready. 

"Good," Lexa nodded and turned to address the duo sitting in front of her. "Now, let's continue."

////////////////////

"... _Ms. Colden._ While I appreciate you wanting this to be a speedy process, that's really not in your best interest here."

Clarke wished she could take it all back. 

Was honestly more than ready to give up anything, to rewind and freeze time to before having set foot in that office. 

Because goddamn if Lexa hadn't been right. 

She felt dirty, almost tainted just from sitting so close to the pair beside her, more than once having to stop her writing to stare in stupefied horror as the client and her… _companion_ so flippantly relayed their mountain of misdeeds. 

No wonder Raven had been so disgusted the day of their first meeting, Clarke now clearly understanding both women's initial vitriolic response.

Slowly, over the course of the afternoon and deep into nightfall, Clarke watched as Lexa masterfully dissected the entirety of the situation, having the client lay everything out on the table piece by piece in agonizing detail. 

Theft, embezzlement, tax fraud, forgery, adultery, all in the lattice work of siphoning money from a children's charity. 

With each passing admission, implication, and charge levied against the woman, Clarke's stomach rolled as Ms. Colden so casually explained how and why she'd done what she'd done without an ounce of remorse. 

Like it was nothing. 

Like she was entitled to it, as though every one of her actions were perfectly justifiable. 

And while she really couldn't understand how, why, or what the hell Charles had been thinking when he'd agreed to take on this client, Clarke couldn't help but somewhat marvel at how smoothly Lexa controlled the situation. 

For once, Clarke thought she could understand exactly what had landed Lexa this job. 

"The whole point of me hiring you was because you were supposedly the best," Ms. Colden snipped. "The longer this goes on, the more damage it does to my reputation."

Clarke's eyes yet again snapped up in anger to glare at the back of the women's blonde head. Her heated gaze slipped to Lexa as she sat forward, green eyes flicking toward her for a moment in silent warning, before landing back on the client.

"I'm fairly certain embezzling millions from your husband's charity is what ruined your reputation, not my prowess as a litigator, but again, I appreciate where you're coming from. Still, you need to trust me when I tell you that dragging this out is our best option at the present time."

"This is all so very stupid," Ms. Colden huffed as the scruffy looking man beside her silently shifted in his seat. "It's _my_ charity. It's _my_ money. I should be able to do with it what I wish."

"Nia," Lexa tsked and sat back, the relaxed air about her seeming wildly at odds with the conversation. "We promised we weren't going to lie to each other."

"I'm not."

"You are." 

Clarke couldn't help her wide-eyed gaping, taking in the defiant and chiding tone as Lexa blatantly spoke to her client like a child. 

"You were, and are, aware that what you were doing was illegal. That is why you tried to hide it. Now, I'm willing to lie to any judge or jury on your behalf, because that's my job and I'm exceptionally good at it. But this," Lexa motioned between them, "will not work if you're going to lie to _me…_ I am not Mr. Pike. I will not sugarcoat things. And I do not do well with being lied to. So. You will be honest with me, and with yourself, while you're in the confines of this office. Understood?"

Clarke watched the woman's knuckles turn white, as they gripped the armrests of her chair. 

"Alright," Ms. Colden finally conceded with a disgruntled nod, breaking the intense stare down when she lightly flung her hands up. "Fine. Yes. I knew it was illegal. But it shouldn't be illegal, is my point. It's my charity, and my money."

"Technically, it's your husband's charity; you were just a board member. Hence why he's divorcing you and making my job ten times more annoying. Speaking of which, Clarke," Lexa called, Clarke snapping out of her glaring at the back of the client's head to see a soft smile being directed at her. "Please make a note in my calendar for this evening to look up Costia Greene's number. I need to request a consult, for her to help with that mess."

"You're not going to handle it by yourself?" Ms. Colden asked. "It's just a divorce, what the hell am I paying you for?"

Lexa's face turned steely, green eyes darkening to a deep emerald as they swung back to the woman seated across from her.

"You're _paying me_ , to keep you from _dying in prison,"_ Lexa said through the grind of her jaw, the slow and measured cadence of her words landing loudly in Clarke's ears. They were icy, each one sounding venomous and hollow as the air in the room thickened. 

Clarke pulled at the collar of her blouse as the temperature seemed to jump several degrees. 

"And while my field of expertise covers that, unfortunately I'm not as well versed in how to keep your husband from sending you to the next breadline along with your _lover._ So perhaps, try not to question my methods in the future, Nia."

Lexa stood after she finished, straightening the hem of her vest and taking a moment to visibly calm herself before rounding the desk to stand in front of the pair. 

"I think that's enough for tonight."

"But we still haven't-"

"And we're not going to, at least not today. It's getting late, and we have plenty of time... Just have faith in me, Ms. Colden. You're in good hands."

"... I know," the woman finally sighed as Lexa squeezed her shoulder, standing and accepting the bag Lexa had scooped up and held out. "And I do. Please. Pardon my aggravation. I just want this whole mess behind us."

"I understand," Lexa hummed as she gestured toward the door. "Consequences for our actions can be hard to accept. But believe me when I say, this will all be nothing but a... distant memory after I'm finished."

"I pray for that day," she breathed with a laugh, reaching a hand out to the man beside her. "For us both."

Clarke watched as full lips slowly pulled into a sinister looking smile.

"Exactly. You pray… and I'll take care of the rest."

Lexa ushered the woman toward the door, hand hovering over the small of her back without actually touching, niceties passing cordially between them as Nia walked out.

Clarke stood silently as the man nodded his goodbye to Lexa and followed his companion from the office, shivering in disgust as the word "lover" slithered through her mind. She moved to stand beside Lexa and rested on the opposite pillar of the doorway, quietly watching as the pair swiftly moved across the dim and deserted work floor and onto the waiting elevator.

"... So. She's…"

"A heinous bitch?" Lexa supplied, sending a final smile and wave to the client as the metal doors slid shut.

"In so many words."

Lexa breathed a sigh, the facade of civility and propriety falling away as she turned and grinned at Clarke.

"Yes she is. Don't worry about that though. They'll both be dealt with in due time."

She watched Lexa push away from the door and walk back toward her desk, lazily flipping through the papers strewn across its surface. Clarke slowly followed after, brows furrowing as she tried to make sense of what she'd just said.

"Dealt with?"

"Mm?" Lexa murmured and looked up with questioning eyes before her face fell into a look of calm reassurance. "Oh. Of course she is. Ms. Colden," she vaguely pointed out toward the main office, "should enjoy the days she has left... Her and that little gigolo accomplice she's convinced herself she's in love with."

Clarke held back a disgusted sound at the mental image that evoked and pushed onward. "Okay, but, 'dealt with'? What does that mean? You're her lawyer. You're just going to throw the trial?"

Lexa stared from where she stood hunched over her desk, a small smile turning her features soft as she quirked a brow. "Clarke... There's not going to be a trial. _I'm_ going to deal with them."

"... What?" Clarke frowned.

"You didn't actually think she was getting out of this whole thing alive, did you?"

"... What?"

"Stop saying what, gorgeous."

"Well then explain what the hell you mean."

Lexa scoffed as she straightened. "I think it should be fairly simple to work out. You listened to what she did. What _they_ did. Did you really think I'd just let that go?... They're going to die, Clarke. So stop worrying."

 _"Die?"_ Clarke spluttered and squawked with thundering disbelief. "Lexa! What the fuck?"

"Well, what'd you think I was going to do? Throw them a party?"

"I-... You can't just murder them!"

Lexa quietly frowned as she tossed aside the papers in her hand, walking back around the front of her desk to stand toe to toe with Clarke.

"Yes I can."

Clarke tamped down the urge to take a step back, a spark of something dark igniting low in her belly at the challenge. Instead, she took a tiny step forward, relishing the sight of Lexa's throat bobbing at the proximity. "So what? That's how you're such an accomplished lawyer? You just kill off all the clients who you don't think you can win?"

"It's adorable that you believe I'm a lawyer at all," Lexa said with a patronizing curl of her lips.

The words landed heavy between them, Clarke's mouth slowly dropping open in realization as her brow furrowed. 

"... Oh, my God."

"I told you who I was, Clarke," Lexa said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm a demon. I do what I want, when I want... I mean really, did you actually think I went to _law school?"_

Clarke's cheeks flamed at the dismissive laughter, a nauseous churning of foolishness roiling within her. Because of course it made sense, despite the thought having never occurred to her, each revelation reminding Clarke just how far outside of her depth she had fallen.

"So-" Clarke started and then stopped, swallowing harshly at the croak in her voice. "So you really do just toy with these people's lives… With me. With them."

"I've been honest with you, Clarke," Lexa argued, instantly sobering at the accusation. "Since I realized I could trust you, I've answered every one of your questions as truthfully as I could. What part of that is me toying with you?"

"You did not tell me you're lying about this."

"It never came up," Lexa shrugged. "But even still, genuinely asking, how in the world would you assume I'm an actual lawyer? I mean, hello? _Demon..._ This is all just something to pass the time."

"No, this is all one big fucked up game of make believe to you," she shook her head. "For God's sake, Lexa, she stole some money and cheated on her husband. How can you possibly say that she deserves to die over that?"

Lexa stared at her for a long silent moment, jaw ticking to the side as she held Clarke's gaze. 

"... I don't particularly care that she cheated on her husband," Lexa quietly stated, her words light, yet firm, and entirely sure in their cadence. "Or that she stole money. God knows I've helped my fair share of women do far, _far_ worse than that."

Clarke swallowed at the lustful grin that curled the edge of her full lips, before Lexa lifted her chin and continued. 

"The issue is who she stole it from, and what that caused... That money wasn't hers, or her husband's. That money was meant to help children, Clarke. Sick children. I'm not letting that go."

"But it's not your job to decide that, Lexa."

"It is my fucking job," Lexa snapped, startling Clarke with the seething low intensity of her words. "Because I say it is. But more than that, I like it… I like doing it, because I'm the only one who is willing to hold these monsters accountable around here."

Clarke stayed perfectly still as Lexa quietly raged, cheeks warming when the woman slowly started circling her as she spoke. 

"I realize you want to see the good in everything. In everyone around you, but seriously, Clarke, be honest with yourself. I saw the way you looked at her, I practically _felt_ your revulsion as you listened to what they've done. Now put yourself in my position. Imagine knowing the repercussions of her actions more than even she ever could... Not that she'd even care."

"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked as Lexa settled in front of her again. 

"Children died because of what she did, Clarke. Painfully. Because the money they promised for their treatments and care never showed up. And hell itself knows hospitals only understand their idiotic bottom line... The things people went through because of her. Families went bankrupt because of her, children are in the _ground_ because of her--"

"Stop."

"All so she could enjoy lavish dinners and weekends away screwing that disgusting excuse of a man." 

"Lexa-"

"And I feel all of them," Lexa breathed with wide eyes. "... I feel every last one of them, every time I look at her."

Clarke stood there, trembling, sweat beading along the back of her neck. "... Demons feel human emotions?" 

Lexa let out a frustrated sigh, eyes closing as she visibly bit back her words before continuing, much more calmly. 

" _I_ feel it," she said, holding a hand to her chest before letting it fall away. "Okay? That's all that matters. _I_ feel them and their pain and their anger. The sorrow and the fear of her victims... I can give you names, ages, illnesses. Whatever it would take to assuage your guilt over this, because, Clarke?... They're going to die for what they've done. And you need to accept that."

Clarke almost felt like she was going to cry, huffing as her chin wobbled and her hands shook with the weight of the moment, her body so seizing with a war of emotions she couldn't even bring herself to pull away as Lexa stepped close. She breathed calming lungfuls of perfume, rich air as a gentle hand reached out for her.

"Listen to me," Lexa soothed as she nudged at Clarke's hand, fingers trailing down her knuckles before hooking a pinky around Clarke's index. 

And she didn't quite know what to do with it; the seeing and hearing and feeling Lexa be more gentle, more genuine, with her than ever before. 

"Despite what you may think, I promise you, I do not kill indiscriminately. As much as I loathe the bulk of humanity, truthfully most of them I just find entertaining. Or annoying. And that's fine. But things like this? _People_ like this?"

Lexa stopped for a moment, shaking her head with a frown. 

"I can't change the past. I can't give back what they took from those people. But I also cannot, and will not, allow them to hurt anyone else in the future. Do you understand what I'm saying? The deepest recesses of Hell are reserved for people like them. The betrayers... So no, this certainly isn't a game to me, Clarke."

"What is this then?"

Lexa looked at her with such pleading softness in her eyes that Clarke felt the room spin under feet, a bloom of feelings she couldn't begin to define expanding inside her as Lexa spoke solemnly. 

"This is justice," Lexa murmured. "... Those children relied on her, and she deceived them. Sacrificed them, for her own selfish gains. That debt will not go unpaid."

"... So that's it. Just like that. You're just going to kill them."

"Yes. They're guilty, and they will be held accountable. By my hand and the next."

Letting her head tip forward, Clarke couldn't find it in her to fight it as Lexa shuffled just a little bit closer and reached a hand up to tuck back a wayward curl of blonde hair.

"It'll be alright, Clarke… I mean, when you think about it," Lexa said as her face suddenly broke into a small teasing smile grin, "they're already damned for all eternity. I'm simply doing them the favor of making sure they get the VIP treatment on the way down."

Clarke grunted and flung Lexa's hand away. "That isn't funny, Lexa."

"You really do need to lighten up," Lexa drawled. "Where's the fun in delivering the righteous hand of judgment here on Earth, if you can't at least find a _little_ bit of humor along the way?"

"Are you serious?"

"Rarely, but right now, yes."

"... I don't even know what to think about this… I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"Want me to help take your mind off of it?" Lexa asked and wagged her brow. 

"Shut up."

"Well that's not very nice."

"You're so... fucking infuriating."

"And you're really hot when you're angry."

Clarke glared at Lexa, feeling a white-hot rush of her temper balloon in her gut. Her hands shook with each flare of her anger as she emptied the space between them in a single step. 

_"Shut._ The fuck up, Lexa."

"Hah... Make me, gorgeous."

Green eyes widened when Clarke's face twisted in a snarl at the whispered challenge, hands grabbing fistfuls of Lexa's vest and shoving her back. 

Clarke allowed her body to be moved with the momentum, relishing in the small _"oof"_ that escaped as she slammed Lexa into the strip of wall behind them. 

In one fluid motion Clarke surged forward, swallowing whatever it was Lexa had been trying to say. The smash of her lips was as rough as it was angry, Clarke pouring days, weeks, months-worth of fury into the give of Lexa's body. 

Heat exploded low in Clarke's belly as Lexa's moan echoed in her mouth. Her teeth ached with the clash of the kiss even as she pushed and pressed in harder, a punishing kind of edge to the way she slid between Lexa's lips. She felt hands move to grasp at her, fingers curling in and around the small of her back, causing her to wrench away just far enough to speak.

"No," Clarke grit out, hands flying to grab the wrists at her hips. 

With a sharp jerk she lifted Lexa's arms away from her and up, surprising even herself as she felt them slam against the wall above their heads. 

Their chests heaved against each other, Clarke's eyes darting between the slim hands pinned in her grip and the darkened stare looking back. 

Her thighs clenched at the way Lexa's mouth hung slack, the warm puff of her breath blooming through slick and reddened lips. They looked full, almost swollen in the aftermath of Clarke's kiss, the effect of them causing Clarke to want to lean in again. She felt the jut of bone dig into her as Lexa tilted her hips in a maddening slow press.

"Huh… look at you," Lexa husked, the black forests of her eyes roving over Clarke's face. "Full of surprises."

"If you don't shut up, I swear to God-"

"You'll what? _Spank_ me?"

Clarke's mouth snapped shut, feeling the muscles bulge as she clenched her jaw with fury. The teasing grin painted across Lexa's face reignited the inferno of anger and arousal, Clarke's eyes blazing as she finally fucking snapped.

In a swift move she brought a hand down, fingers wrapping around the alabaster column of Lexa's long and tempting throat. Not squeezing, but holding her, pinning her within her grasp.

She felt the hitch of Lexa's breath, wanted to live inside the feeling of wiping that pleased look from her face. A hunger swelled inside of Clarke as Lexa's eyes darkened further, their hooded stare burning her as the muscles flexed under her grip. 

Clarke's stomach tightened and flipped as she felt Lexa's hips writhe against her, eyes dropping to those glistening bee-stung lips, as Lexa strained forward despite her hold. 

The second kiss was no less harsh, but fuller, longer, Clarke feeling a thrill race up her spine at the sound of Lexa's answering whimper. She tightened her grip and leaned in again, slipping her tongue inside the wet warmth of Lexa's mouth when she released a shuddering gasp.

A moan tore from her throat as Lexa opened for her, massaging Clarke's tongue with her own in desperate swipes and flicks. Dropping Lexa's wrists, Clarke brought her hand down, grabbing frantically at Lexa's waist and pulling her tighter still. She felt fingers slide into the curls of her hair and keep her close, as Lexa wrenched away.

"Fuck," Lexa panted, her breathy hum turning to groans as Clarke replaced her hand with her lips on the creamy skin of her neck. 

She smiled into the sound of a loud hiss as Clarke bit down, teeth scraping in a sharp graze before soothing the angry mark with her tongue. 

Clarke reveled in the feel of smooth skin beneath her fingertips as she dragged her hand over the swell of Lexa's chest. Hastily working open the top layer of buttons and shoving it aside, Clarke moved to tug the tails of her blouse out of skin tight pants, as Lexa shrugged off her undone vest.

Losing the last frayed edges of her patience, Clarke ripped open the sides of soft-silken material with a vicious yank, and a popping scuttle of buttons.

Running her hands over the expanse of newly freed skin, she moved along the cut of Lexa's waist and up, fingers, nails, and palms dancing in pirouettes across the crests and valleys of her ribs. Slipping a hand beneath tight lace and satin, Clarke cupped Lexa's breast in a massaging squeeze. 

Hands grabbed at her desperately, fingers sliding along her jaw and urging her up as Lexa's hips swung forward in a violent lurch. Clarke swallowed the sounds pouring from Lexa as she let herself be pulled onto the greedy bend of searching lips.

Clarke lost herself in the fervency of the moment, of the kiss, the punishing twists of her fingers around straining nipples matching the ones fisted in her own hair. It was rough and deliciously dirty how deeply Clarke fell into this woman, a grunt the only thing pulling her from her haze.

"Clarke, gorgeous, _please,"_ Lexa panted against her lips, the bruised swell of them dragging against her as she spoke between draws of Clarke's mouth. 

She let nimble fingers wrap around her wrist and guide her hand back down, Clarke's head spinning when she found the button and zip already undone. 

A shudder ran through her as she pushed past the stretch of lace, Clarke humming at the knowledge that it was a matching set without even needing to look. The heat in her belly grew at picturing Lexa dressed and splayed before her in nothing but the skimpy lingerie, idly wondering if this was an everyday choice for the woman or yet another thing she used to drive Clarke toward sexual insanity. 

But then her fingers slid through a cropped strip of soaked, wiry hair, the thick pool of arousal making Clarke's hand slip. 

She sucked in a breath at the amount of wetness coating her fingers, having not been sure what she'd find in such an intimate place on a demon. But teasing through puffy folds and slippery skin felt every bit as familiar, and welcoming, and intoxicatingly _hot_ as Clarke had shamefully dreamed it would be.

"Fucking finally."

Clarke's head snapped up to throw a murderous look at the dazed and glassy-eyed face staring back. Lexa gave her a lazy grin in return and a slow roll of her hips.

The first swipe of her fingers was barely a brush to the swollen tip of Lexa's clit, but Clarke brimmed with perverse satisfaction as blown, hazy-green eyes fluttered back into her head. 

"Jesus Christ," Lexa breathed, as Clarke started swirling patterns over her, "you have no idea how much I have wanted this."

So caught up in the moment, in feeling the power radiating through her at seeing Lexa so spun out under her touch, Clarke leaned back in.

"Stop talking," she whispered, mouthing kisses to the skin of Lexa's sweat-sweetened skin. 

Clarke punctuated her words as she roughly pushed forward and slipped two fingers inside, feeling the warm wet muscles give and then clench around her.

Lexa whined at being filled so suddenly, Clarke feeling a dark twist of her belly when Lexa lifted to the balls of her feet with the force of it. She stayed still for a moment, no more than a fraction of a second to let Lexa adjust, before giving into the feverish twitch of her fingers telling her to pump and fuck mercilessly. 

The urge to drive every inch of her fury into the woman, and leave her sated and sweaty and spent.

A low rumble of a growl clawed at her throat as she licked back into the honey of Lexa's mouth, tasting the reds, cherries, and crimsons of her lust-colored approval. Hands clung to her desperately as Clarke felt Lexa wobble on shaky knees, a deep purr of thanks humming across her tongue as she pressed the woman more securely against the wall. 

Clarke bathed in the rocking motion of their push and pull, a certain satisfaction uncoiling in her as Lexa's breath hitched with every pump. Each upward thrust lifted them both on their toes, Clarke pushing as deep as her fingers could reach. 

The fluid roll of Lexa's body slipped into a thrum of messy shudders, a desperate grind taking over as Clarke fucked into her with relentless strokes. 

Grabbing a handful of Lexa's ass, Clarke felt a sick surge of power as she guided the rock of Lexa's body. Hands gripped at her neck, sliding along her shoulders and through the mussed curls of her hair, Clarke reveling in feeling Lexa struggle to return the violence of her kiss. 

"Clarke," Lexa gasped and pulled away, her head lolling back against the wall with a thump. A whimper ripped through the air as Clarke immediately moved to bite and suck along the bend of Lexa's neck, pushing Lexa closer to the edge with a hook of her fingers on a wicked thrust. _"Clarke."_

Clarke's eyes slid shut as clinging muscles tightened around her, feeling them milking the length of her, as arousal flooded Clarke's palm. The wet and heavy sounds of her fucking mixed with the breathy chant of Clarke's name. 

Pump, curl, twist.

Lexa clenched further, fingers scrambling and nails scratching along the cut of Clarke's shoulder blades as her entire body locked up. 

Thrust, flutter, twist.

A loud rumbling growl exploded from deep in Lexa's chest, the vibrations racing through Clarke's lips and landing hotly in her core. She throbbed at the sound, at the whining breath that followed after, a symphony of sounds calling her to drive into the tightening warmth faster despite the aching of her wrist.

Her thumb fumbled and slipped up to press to the swell of Lexa's clit, feeling it twitch as she rolled it beneath her touch. 

Lexa came with a shout, the tendons of her neck stretching against the bite of Clarke's lips. 

Muscles squeezed at Clarke's fingers in vicious snaps, a painful hiss escaping her at the strength of Lexa's orgasm. 

Hips juddered in slowing bucks as they rode out the ripples of Lexa's pleasure together, Clarke holding Lexa as close as possible to help keep her grounded.

With a spent moan and dreamy sigh, Lexa all but melted into her, practically purring as she ran her hands up and down the notches of Clarke's back. Weak pulses of her release echoed around Clarke's fingers as she patiently waited for Lexa to come back down.

Lexa sighed again with a laugh and nuzzled into the downy fine hairs of Clarke's cheek, a gentle nudging of her nose coaxing her in for a kiss. 

"I knew it'd be amazing to feel you like this… so deep inside me," Lexa whispered against her lips. "It was better than even I imagined… And I imagined it _a lot."_

Clarke rolled her eyes and fought against the smile that threatened to spill out as she pinched the fleshy handful of Lexa's ass still clutched in her grasp. Blindly accepting another kiss, Clarke let herself fall into the moment, into the warm, gooey give of soft and pouty lips.

"Well," she hummed when she finally pulled away and looked up, "whatever it took to finally… shut… you…"

The words died on her tongue and the air stole from her lungs as, instead of the calm and blissed out face of sated relaxation she had expected to see, twin glittering pools of onyx black stared emptily back.

Her breath hiccupped and lungs squeezed as Lexa's lips split in a lazy smile, revealing tiny razor tips that capped the row of her teeth. Her cheeks looked sharper and jaw far deadlier in the yellowed light of the office, a sinister cut coloring all of Lexa's most beautiful edges. 

It was striking, almost ethereal in its own demonic way, and all of it sent Clarke's heart pounding as a chill shot down her spine.

Lexa chuckled and tucked back the swell of her lip between the glint of those teeth. "See how good this can feel if you just let yourself have a little fun?"

Clarke jerked her head back from the hands that reached to cup her face as the thick taste of bile rose in her throat. She wrenched her fingers out of soaked folds as gently as she could in her moment of blind panic, releasing Lexa entirely and stumbling a step back.

"Fu-- Lexa," Clarke breathed, eyes seeing but unseeing as reality crashed down around her.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Lexa asked with concern, reaching out for her again before dropping her hands at Clarke's frantic shake of her head. 

"Y-you…" 

Her throat ached against the choke of her words as she raised a trembling hand and pointed instead. 

Lexa stared for a silent beat, before a look of realization settled over her face. Jet black eyes blinked furiously, finally clamping shut as Lexa breathed a deep inhale. A moment later, crystal soft green slid open and looked out at Clarke beneath the hang of hooded eyes, Lexa flashing her usual impish smile with a shrug.

"It's okay, gorgeous," she tried and took a tiny step forward. "It just happens sometimes when I'm… especially worked up."

The suggestive leer that accompanied her words only managed to make Clarke spiral further. 

"Oh my God," Clarke said to herself in disgust. 

"Clarke--"

"What-," Clarke whispered in horror, "... What did I just do? What the _fuck did I do?_ "

"Gorgeous--"

"Don't!... What the hell did I just do?"

Lexa frowned and stared back, all signs of satiation and happiness wiped clean from her face.

"... What you wanted to do." 

"I just had sex with a demon," Clarke spit through gritted teeth. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, Clarke," Lexa soothed in a rush of words, her voice calm and comforting as she tried reaching out for Clarke again. "Nothing's wrong with you. You finally let yourself have something you wanted. What we _both_ wanted-"

"No, don't, don't touch me," Clarke shook her head, words halting and hollow as she practically tripped over herself to reach for the door and yank it open. "I have to go."

"Clarke, wait. _Stop."_

Clarke shoved past her with hurried steps, flinging off the hand that had grabbed out for her own. 

"Clarke… _Clarke!"_

Practically running across the office, she barely broke stride long enough to snatch up her belongings before taking off toward the emergency exit door as she ignored the anguished calls of her name.

Clarke wrenched the door to the stairwell open and threw herself through it, sparing a final glance at the disheveled, half naked woman standing perfectly still in the doorway of her office. 

With each step Clarke's heart sank to the clacking beat of her heels on cement, her chest burning as she furiously blinked away the memory of Lexa's pained look of hurt staring back.

////////////////

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time:
> 
> Murderous plans and a bit of a shock
> 
> Next up:
> 
> Friends 🙂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Minor TW//  
> One singular mention of cannibalism, absolutely nothing graphic or even descriptive, I highly doubt it'll be at all triggering but to be on the safe side here's the heads up. 
> 
> Sorry it's taken so long 😔 holidays, pandemic, general lazy bitch stuff. You know how it goes. 
> 
> Forever sending love and thanks to my queens, my beta and first readers, y'all the mvps here. 
> 
> Hope everyone has a great and safe new year, let's give a collective 🖕 to 2020 and hope 2021 is kinder to us all 💕

6:56.

The red glare of numbers stared tauntingly from Clarke's bedside table.

She watched them shimmer in the lazy light of morning, a stray few dust particles floating past as 56 flipped to 57. A silent exhale rolled through her as she blinked away the burn of their glow, reaching out a hand to silence the alarm readying itself to go off. 

Lifting up onto her elbows, Clarke groaned at the prickly scratch of insomnia that clung behind her eyelids as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

Her heavy footfalls thudded in her ears as she padded her way to the bathroom. A buzzing haze softened and muddled her senses, her limbs heavy and body floating within the strange limbo that came from never having truly fallen asleep. 

Stopping short in front of the mirror, Clarke struggled to keep her gaze trained on her own weary eyes, taking in the ragged face staring back.

Head so thoroughly a mess the evening before, Clarke had all but thrown herself into her apartment when she'd gotten home. Unable to stomach the idea of facing herself, she'd stripped herself of the clothes that still lingered with the scent of spicy perfume, shoving them in her hamper before retreating to the safety of her bed. 

But staring at the smudges of old eye makeup and a faded stain of lipstick that did not match any shade she owned, Clarke realized she'd done nothing more than delay the inevitable gut punch of the situation. 

She'd had sex with Lexa. 

_No_ , she corrected herself as she leaned forward and rested her hands on the sink… _She'd had sex with a demon._

Her stomach flipped at the memory, guilt pulling at her insides even as images of the night before flashed through her mind. Images of soft skin bound in even softer scraps of lace, of the heady feeling of seeing that cocky look wiped so thoroughly from the sharp and goading face. The quiet calls of pleasured exultation, the breathy and euphoric chanting of Clarke's name that ricocheted through the office. 

She gripped the porcelain in a white-knuckled grip as she remembered the clinging warmth and wetness wrapped so _tight_ around her fingers.

"Stop it," she huffed at herself, smooshing her face in her hands for a moment to clear the gathering fog. Without another upward glance she stripped and turned the shower on full blast, hissing at the burning sting of the water as she willed her mind to remain blank. 

It was a mistake. 

It's that simple. 

Nothing more ever needed to come of it, she resolutely told herself as she scrubbed and scraped every inch of herself clean. 

Skin steaming, raw and pink, Clarke went about readying herself for the day as if everything were normal. Because it _would_ be normal. She had decided as much to herself as she'd tossed and turned through the night. 

It was a mistake. 

One that she planned on fixing. 

And though the mental image of Lexa standing silhouetted in her office doorway, half naked and face looking the very picture of resigned hurt, made Clarke's heart twist in a way she had zero intention of contemplating, she realized how silly all this really was. 

Lexa was a _demon_ for Christ sake, Clarke reminding herself of that fact in regular intervals throughout her entire morning routine. She'd be fine. _Clarke_ was the only one Clarke needed to worry about, nodding to herself once again that if anything, she should be the one upset. 

Upset with Lexa for her incessant attempts to… woo Clarke in such unrelenting ways, yes. But in the quieter moments, those few seconds of truth sat so unsteadily between reminders of her steadfast plan, Clarke allowed herself to be honest on where the true blame laid.

 _She'd_ let this happen. 

_Clarke_ had been the one to let the situation slowly come to a boiling point, no matter what anyone could possibly try to say. Somewhere between 12 and 2 am, the realization of it all had finally dawned on her in small begrudging increments. 

Lexa had told her so clearly how to make all of it stop, had said in no uncertain terms exactly what the rules of her game were. 

And still, Clarke had played along. 

Had quite literally played with fire.

So the burns to her pride and frayed sense of self were very much of her own doing. 

But still, she was going to fix it. Was going to finally act as the rational adult she knew herself to be and get ahold of the situation, snuffing out the simmering hunger of wanton and illicit danger which had allowed her to entertain the most ridiculous of Lexa's behavior. 

With a final steadying breath as she turned the key in the lock of her apartment and stepped out on her way to work, Clarke resolutely decided she'd march straight into the insufferable woman's office with little more than a resounding, "Stop."

Because, after all, it was just a simple mistake.

  
  


///////////////

"Thank fuck, you're finally here."

Clarke halted in her tracks at the greeting, startled blues flying up from her bag and taking in the jubilant face of her desk mate. 

She watched Raven spring from her seat, a certain level of pep to her step Clarke wasn't familiar with seeing. "Look!"

Brows screwed together in confusion, Clarke let her gaze wander over her. Giving a hesitant nod and the ghost of a smile, she made her way to her desk and gingerly set down her things. 

"Yeah," she started slowly, eyes still scanning the woman for any glimpse of a clue. "You look… good?"

Raven planted a hand on her hip and bounced a few times on bended knees. "I always look good, that's not the point... Notice anything _in particular?"_

"... It seems you've had a decent amount of caffeine?"

"Hilarious," Raven tsked with a roll of her eyes. "No, bitch. Look!"

Clarke's eyes widened as Raven started undoing the buckle of her belt. "Uh, Rave-"

"Calm down, I'm not giving you peep show," Raven drawled even as she slid the waist of her pants slightly down her hip. "I'm showing you my new brace, you pervert."

"Ooooh," Clarke closed her eyes for a moment in sudden understanding as she sat down. Rearranging her face into one of more genuine excitement, Clarke bent closer to have a better look and released a low whistle. "Wow. Fancy."

"I know, right?" Raven smirked as she slipped her pants back upward and put herself back together. "Top of the line. Ya girl's bougie now."

Clarke looked up her friend with a deepening frown as she lowered herself into her seat. "Why didn't you tell me you were looking for a new one? Or that you were even thinking-"

"Details," Raven waved her off, "didn't wanna jinx it, blah blah blah. Don't worry about it. What you should be focusing on is-- Oop, morning, Lexa."

The sudden chipper flip of Raven's voice caused Clarke's heart to trip, bound, and leap up into her throat, the traitorous muscle fully lodging itself there and strangling every last one of her words. Heat exploded over her skin as she instinctively looked to the approaching figure and froze on the spot, eyes blankly staring up at the calm and collected face... that refused to spare her a glance. 

"Morning, Raven. You look happy. Yesterday went well then?" Lexa breathed as she came to a quick stop on the other side of Raven's desk.

"Amazingly. You wanna see it-"

"Actually, uh," Lexa abruptly cut her off with the ghost of a smile, shaking her head as she rifled through the inner pocket of her blazer. "I need you to do something for me first. Why don't you just come to my office when it's done instead. That alright?"

"Oh, okay," Raven slightly deflated, despite her unyielding smile. "Whatcha need, boss lady?"

"I need you to call this number and set up a meeting," Lexa very primly commanded, handing over a business card and tapping it with her finger. "You know my schedule, but make it sooner rather than later. Forewarning, they're rude. They'll try and hustle you off the phone, just yell over them and tell them who you're calling for. That'll shut them up. If for some reason it doesn't, transfer it to me, but I think you'll be fine."

"Sounds lovely. I'm all over it."

"Thanks. See you in a minute," she nodded, barely pausing for a moment as she headed toward her office, eyes forward with no hint of a smile as she passed. "Ms. Griffin."

"Ms. D'Angelo," Clarke mumbled weakly after, jerking out of her stupor at the soft greeting.

Clarke sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit lightly as she willed herself to not allow her eyes to trail after the body wrapped in a tight, black skirt. 

_… Later,_ she silently vowed to herself with a nod, still feeling off-kilter at having not seen her coming in the first place. _I'll just talk to her later. Later's actually better._

Inhaling a generous lungful of air at her newly cemented deadline, Clarke blew out the rumbling of her nerves as she rolled her shoulders and attempted to focus.

A quiet few moments passed as she signed in to her computer and looked over the long list of emails waiting for her attention, before she felt the distinct weight of eyes all over her. Slowly turning her head to the side, she took in the face gaping back.

"What?"

Raven looked at her intently, eyes squinting and mouth slightly ajar. "... What was that?"

"What was what?" Clarke rasped through the arid clutch of her throat, heat rising up her spine as brown eyes narrowed further with calculation. 

_"That."_

_"What?"_

"You and Lexa… That was very..."

To Clarke's absolute horror, Raven froze for a second after trailing off. A beat passed before she watched the woman slowly lean in and give her a quick sniff. 

Eyes blowing wide, Raven's face broke into a manic smile. 

"You... little _… slut,"_ Raven crooned in a joyous whisper, her body practically vibrating with poorly concealed scandalized glee.

"... Shit."

"You _fucked_ her," she squeaked, the smile on her face stretching wider with every second. 

"Raven! Jesus, be quiet," Clarke hushed, head swiveling around to see if anyone had heard. 

_"You fucked her,"_ Raven delighted again in a low growl, shimmying her chair closer as she huddled into Clarke's space. "Oh my _God!_ This is fantastic. Clarke, oh my God. You have to tell me everything. When? _W_ _here?"_

"I'm not telling you anything, Christ."

"But you're not denying that there's something to tell," Raven seized, eyes practically sparky as she wiggled in her seat. "Oh this is great. This is _great._ I knew it, I told Harper you were into her."

"You have been talking to people about me?" Clarke gaped with growing mortification. 

"You two aren't exactly subtle, Clarke, despite your whole 'I hate her' bullshit parade. But, whatever, not important. What's important is your vaginas have _finally_ been formally introduced, and I am going to need every last filthy detail."

"Raven, I swear to God."

"Oh I bet you swore to a lotta gods," Raven leered. 

"You're not funny."

"No, I'm ecstatic. You have needed to get laid for months, dude. I just wasn't sure if you had the cojones to actually go for it with Lexa."

"Raven," Clarke groaned as she attempted to rub away the gathering storm of a headache in her temples. "I'm begging you, stop."

"How was it?" Raven barreled on, dropping her voice as low as she could and scooted even closer. "Like on a scale of 'one' to 'had to throw the sheets out after'?"

"What the hell?"

"Who started it? Who was on top? Lexa's super bossy, but those types can really fool you. Just look at Anya."

"Ew-"

"Oh, wait! Did you spoon? Whisper sweet little nothings to each other across the pillow?"

"Jesus Christ, Raven," Clarke snapped, slapping a hand on her thigh as she spun to fully face her. "Not that I want to tell you any of this, but fine. If I must, and if it'll shut you up, no. To all of that, okay? No, I'm not rating anything. No, no one was on top. And no, there was no… _pillow talk."_

"Well, that sounds boring as hell," Raven frowned, seemingly entirely unfazed by Clarke's whispered outburst. "What'd you do, just lay there and stare at each other?"

"We didn't lay anywhere," Clarke said without thinking, "do you see any goddamn beds around here?"

"You did it here?!"

"Will you shut up?" Clarke whisper-screamed while violently yanking Raven back down from where she had sprung to her feet in hellish glee.

Plopping heavily back in her seat, the deviant smile only seemed to grow brighter. "No, that is so much better! Where'd you do it? Finance? Please don't say the bathroom, that's so gross. Wait... You didn't do it on my desk, did you?"

"For fuck's sake, Raven, no," Clarke scowled as Raven warily eyed the desktop beside her. "While it was… spontaneous, we did have the decency to keep it at least semi-private… It happened in her office."

"Oh, hell yes." Clarke rolled her eyes at Raven's low fist pump. "That's so hot, Clarke. Even by my standards. Okay, so, what? Like, did little cuddles on her couch turn into something more? Oh oh... Did she give you little butterfly kisses as you read over her depositions from the day?"

"You have officially lost your mind."

"Fuck yeah I have, this is amazing. I really didn't know you had it in ya, kid. Well. Had _her_ in you. Hah. Get it?"

"Stop."

"Did you get it though?"

"Stop it."

"You got it," Raven smirked and nudged Clarke's shoulder. "Anyway, I'm proud of you. Slutty little sex kitten, you."

"You spend _way_ too much time with Lexa... And don't be proud of anyone," Clarke grouched and lightly slapped away the hand reaching to pinch at her cheek. "Because it's not happening again. It was a mistake."

She could practically hear the heaviness of Raven's deep eye roll. "Uh huh, I'm sure."

"I'm serious, Raven," Clarke quietly but firmly said. "It was a _mistake._ I never should've… It doesn't matter. I'm going to talk to her later about it, because it's definitely not happening again."

"And why not? If you liked it and she liked it, what's the problem?"

"There's just… stuff," Clarke shifted in her seat as her stomach flipped with the memory of those dark and empty eyes. "I can't exactly talk about it, but believe me, there is. And I should've spoken to her about it last night, and that's completely my fault, but I just couldn't help but freak out and get the hell out of here. So I decided-"

"Wait, hold up," Raven interrupted as the smile slipped from her face. "Rewind… You freaked out afterward?"

"Yeah. Big time."

"Why?"

Clarke swallowed a harsh gulp and shook her head. "Just did."

"... And how exactly did she react to that? What'd she say?"

"Not a whole lot considering I bolted before she could really do anything," Clarke admitted as she worried the hem of her sweater between anxious fingers. "She tried to, I think. I mean she called after me, but I- I needed to get out of there, so I just left."

She watched as Raven's face grew unreadable, a strangely stony look falling over her features as a few moments of silence passed between them. After a few slow blinks, Raven leaned forward on her elbows, hands clasping together as she stared over at Clarke.

"Let me... make sure I have this straight," she said slowly, the quiet timbre of her words rattling loudly in Clarke's ears. "You had sex with Lexa. Sex that you were an active and willing participant in. And then when it was over, you ran off before either of you could talk about it. Do I have that part right?"

"... More or less…"

"'Kay," Raven continued after Clarke's affirming nod. "And, just to be clear on the details, she was _trying_ to get you to stop and listen to her about it, but you ignored her, and left her there- I can only assume naked- as she was asking you to wait and talk to her. Is that also correct?"

Clarke could only manage a silent downward tilt of her chin, not feeling able to correct the slight inaccuracies without the risk of her rolling nausea getting the better of her.

The white noise and chatter of the office fell on deaf ears as Clarke watched Raven's jaw tick from one side to the other. Clarke slunk lower in her seat as Raven straightened across from her, only giving a crisp, "Hm," in return. 

"What?" Clarke finally asked after a few moments of watching Raven stare her down, the weighted silence feeling like a pressure cooker.

"Nothing, I just… didn't realize you were like that."

"Like what?"

"Vindictive."

"What? No."

"It's whatever. I just thought you were a different kind of person, that's all. My mistake."

The pit in Clarke's gut dropped several more notches at the carelessly tossed words. "I don't-" she tried through the knot in her throat, "... What are you saying?"

"Exactly what I _said,"_ Raven answered more sharply than before. "I mean, I get that you decided a long time ago that you weren't gonna be Lexa's biggest cheerleader. God knows you've barely showed her an ounce of respect since we started here. But, I honestly thought it was some horny-repressed-denial thing... And I definitely never thought you'd be the kind of person who'd use someone for sex, then leave them humiliated."

Releasing an indignant squawk, Clarke's mouth dropped open in affronted horror as she scooted closer when Raven rolled back toward her own desk. "That- No! That is _not_ what happened."

"Really?" Raven calmly challenged with wide eyes and a raise of her brows. "How else would you describe what happened last night?"

"I- You don't understand."

"Pretty sure I do, that's why I had you clarify. How would anyone feel if someone fucked them and then ran off?"

"It wasn't like that," Clarke insisted with a strained whisper-shout.

"I mean, put yourself in her shoes," Raven continued, shaking her head. "How worthless, how used and _embarrassed_ , would that make you feel?... I get that you don't like Lexa, I truly do get that now, but I seriously thought you had just a tiny bit more empathy than that."

"Oh, c'mon, Raven."

"Well, how do you think it must've felt for her to be asking you to talk to her, while you apparently ignored her?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's just Lexa we're talking about. The woman has _no_ feelings beyond getting in people's pants, she'll be fine."

The dark cloud that settled thick over Raven's face made Clarke feel that, possibly, that hadn't been the smartest thing she could've said in the moment.

"I think you need to shut up right about now, Clarke."

_"Raven."_

"No, dude. No… You really have no idea, do you?"

"About what?"

"Anything? Literally anything or anyone around you? I mean, do you even know why I had to leave early yesterday?"

The question caught Clarke off-guard, her head pulling back slightly in confusion. "... No?"

"I know you don't, because you didn't ask. You never ask, because you never notice. Because apparently you live the majority of your life with your head buried six feet up your own ass."

"What the fuck, Rae?"

"I was getting the final fitting for my brace yesterday," Raven said, motioning to her hip like it was obvious. "That's why I had to leave. You think this shit just popped up outta nowhere? That's why she asked you to fill in for me and why you had to stay late."

Clarke could only shake her head, cluelessly. "Okay? That was… nice of her to give you the time off?"

With a deep roll of her eyes, Raven leaned forward and flicked Clarke squarely in the forehead. 

"No, you dumbass. I was getting fitted for the brace that Lexa, my _boss_ and the person you treat like garbage every day, is currently paying for."

Clarke's face screwed up at her words as she continued rubbing her forehead. "What?"

"Yeah," Raven said with a mocking cheerful smile. "She offered, and berated me about it until I agreed to let her do it."

"... Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because my old one hurt so bad I was getting sores? Or because our insurance here sucks and doesn't cover this one? And even if it did, I couldn't begin to afford it. But also, maybe it was because she actually noticed how uncomfortable I was all the time, and _asked_ me about it… And you have the audacity to say _she's_ the one without feelings here? Are you fucking joking?"

Clarke sat quietly as Raven sniped at her, jaw slack and mind fuzzy as she scrambled to piece together the implications being laid out for her. 

"Ya know… I sit here and I listen to you shit on her day after day, and I stay pretty quiet about it. Mostly because she asked me to, but also because who you don't like is your own business… But ya know what? I'm going to be real with you here for a quick second, _Clarke,"_ Raven said, the thrashed clicks of Clarke's name causing her to swallow deeply. "As your only friend in this office, I'm telling you right now, it's starting to seem like you're one of the biggest assholes I've ever met in my life."

"Raven," Clarke tried weakly, reaching out and laying a hand on her friend's arm. "I'm-... I'm sorry... I didn't know."

"I know you didn't. Because, again, you didn't ask. But, honestly I'm not even mad about me right now. I didn't say anything about it on purpose because she asked me not to... She didn't want it to be _a thing._ She didn't want to make me feel weird around everyone, or have anyone look at me like I'm the company charity case."

"I would never--"

"I know that too," Raven dismissed with a shake of her head. "That's not the point. The point is, she did this for me. Just because. And then to find out you treated her like that while I was literally at the appointment _she_ set up for me? Yeah. I think you're smart enough to figure out my feelings on this one, _Clarkey."_

Clarke had the decency to look down in shame at the sneer, as the reality of everything from the day before crashed down around her. 

"... I fucked up," she admitted in a whisper. 

She watched as Raven's shoulders dropped and released a deep decompressing sigh.

"Look… I get now that you truly don't like her. But even so, yeah, you did fuck up. And I'm done." 

Clarke looked back up with startled eyes at the words. 

"All kidding from before aside, what you do in the bedroom-... er... office, I guess… whatever. That's all your business. But. I'm not listening to you shit on her anymore, okay? We can still be friends, but don't come to me with anymore of your bullshit about Lexa being evil or her not having feelings. Seriously, I don't wanna hear it."

"I won't, I promise," Clarke agreed in a rush. "And I'll… I'll figure out a way to make it right. With Lexa, I mean. With you too, obviously, but… I'll apologize to Lexa."

"Whatever. Do or don't, that's ultimately your business. In my opinion you definitely _should_ apologize, because it was an epically dickhead move. But it's up to you."

"I will," Clarke said again, feeling properly chastised. "I promise."

"That's if she'll even take it," Raven said with a final shrug and went back to her work. "If it were me, I'd tell you to fuck off and go to hell, but she seems a lot more forgiving of you than anyone else around here."

Clarke couldn't help her quiet, dejected sound of irony at that. "... Ya definitely got the hell part right."

"Mhm. Speaking of hell," Raven sighed as she grabbed her phone and started dialing, "I apparently get the privilege of having a super fun phone call I need to get to, so..."

Clarke could only muster a half-hearted smile through the expanding mountain of guilt now sat squarely in the core of her chest, swallowing at the thick lump in her throat that accompanied Raven's pointed and chilly dismissal. 

"Eh, you got this, Rave. No one puts the verbal smackdown on an office bitch quite like you... Case in point," she tacked on with a sheepish grimace and pointed at herself.

With a lift of her brow, Raven simply sent a tick of a smirk back, before straightening in her seat and grabbing a pen. 

"Yes, hello, this is Raven with Alexandria D'Angelo's office calling. May I please speak with Costia Greene."  
  


///////////////

"Here."

Clarke startled out of her staring contest with the blinking spacer on her screen at the rumpled sound of paper to her side. Her eyes owlishly turned upward for a moment as she worked to come back to reality. 

Taking a quick glance at the small clock at the bottom of her screen, Clarke realized with a shock that she'd wasted most of the day in a silent, introspective haze.

The office had seemed to float around her in suspended fractions of moments, her thoughts straying from her computer screen more often than not as she'd contemplated her rather volatile morning. 

"What is that?" she asked, brow furrowing as she looked between the red and white cupcake on her desk and the unimpressed face looming beside her.

"Compliments of Ms. Heartless," Raven said drolly as she pushed away and walked over to her own seat. 

"Why would she..."

Raven shot her a pointed look as she leaned over and tapped at her keyboard to sign out. "Gee, I wonder. It's truly a mystery."

"... Did she say anything?"

"Oh _yeah._ She even read me little excerpts from her diary while we painted each other's nails," Raven scoffed as though Clarke had lost her mind. "Of course she didn't say anything, dude. She doesn't even know I know. She just split a couple chocolate ones with me while we worked and set this one aside for you. Like she always does."

Clarke chewed at the inside of her lip as she eyed the treat, taunting her with it’s stoic judgement. 

Breathing a steadying breath, she pushed herself up from her seat. "I'm gonna go talk to her."

"She's not here."

"What?" Clarke said and whipped around to the woman gathering her things. 

"Lexa's not here," Raven reiterated very slowly as she slung her bag over her shoulder and pushed in her chair. "She left like ten minutes ago while I was packing up in her office."

"Well… _shit,"_ Clarke hissed at herself. "Did she say why? Where she was going?"

"Nope, but I also didn't ask, because she said I could leave early too. Better luck next time, champ."

"Hey, Raven, wait," Clarke started, stepping in front of the woman as she tried to pass. 

Shuffling awkwardly on the spot, Clarke sighed and did her best to hold Raven's cool gaze. "I just, I wanted to say again, that I really am sorry."

"So you've said."

"I know," Clarke trudged on. "I know I've-... I've been a shit friend lately. I've blown you off so many times, and been incredibly absorbed with myself... But I care about this friendship. And you, even if I'm not that great at showing it all the time. So I hope you really are willing to let me try and make it right, because I don't wanna fuck this up again."

She watched as Raven listened to her and then seemed to think her words over, the eyes trailing over her causing Clarke to shift uneasily from one foot to the next. 

Slumping a shoulder as the muddled disdain of her expression softened, Raven finally tsked and nodded.

"Yeah alright," she sighed, lips twisting into a begrudging half smile. "Apology accepted… I still expect you to get your shit together though."

"Definitely," Clarke rapidly nodded. "And I'm going to apologize to Lexa too. And I want to schedule a night for us to hang out. I owe you a couple makeup nights, actually. Which I _will_ show up for, I swear on my life-"

"Okay, calm down, don't hurt yourself there, sparky," Raven snorted. "I get it, you're on a quest for redemption… I can get down with that."

"Thank you," Clarke sagged with relief.

"Well, like I said, you do not deserve me or my benevolent heart. And I'm _way_ too forgiving… But yeah, I guess we're good. Just… actually do what you say you're gonna do. No bullshit this time."

"No bullshit. And you're right, I don't deserve you. Not your love, or your devotion. Your sweet, sweet words, or that sweet, _sweet_ a-"

"Fuck off," Raven laughed, lightly shoving at Clarke's shoulder as she passed. "I'm going home."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately."

Clarke sent an unseen smile to the woman's back as Raven walked away, feeling a small weight lift off of her chest that at least the entire day wasn't a bust. 

Retaking her seat, Clarke couldn't help letting her eyes drift to the darkened office across the way, her mind inexplicably wishing the door would open to that obnoxiously smirking face despite knowing it lay empty. 

After weeks of watching Lexa burn the daily midnight oil, Clarke couldn't wrap her mind around why Lexa would choose today to leave. 

Well. 

She could. She simply didn't want to, the squirming feeling settling back in her gut reminding her of everything she wished she could just forget.

But as unfortunate as it was, as much as Clarke would desperately rather throw herself in front of the nearest bus she could find… she had to admit the day had truly felt more than a touch lonelier than usual. 

Chest heaving a disgruntled exhale as she slipped into the acceptance phase of mourning her predicament, Clarke tossed aside her pen and paper and let her head fall to her desk with a thunk. 

///////////////

She should really start thinking her plans out more thoroughly. 

Bustling from one side of the street to the next, Clarke mentally added that concept to her list of to do's.

Because as much as she'd felt confident on her quick walk from the office to her destination, the realization that she had not one damn clue what she was actually going to say dawned on her as the towering brick house swam into view.

Clarke knew she wanted to apologize. Above everything else, after her thorough chastising from Raven she could fully accept what she'd done was inexcusable. 

She _could_ accept that. 

The problem was in the execution.

Taking the steps two at a time, Clarke screeched to a halt just outside the door, hand poised to rap a knock… before freezing. She lowered her fist after a few painful moments, pressing a hand to her forehead instead as she pivoted and started back down the stairs. 

By the third step down, Raven's voice came roaring back into her mind, causing her to halt yet again. 

Retracing her footsteps, she looked to the door again, the woodgrain of it mocking her as she began pacing from railing to railing, slowly building the skeleton of the script for her apology.

 _Just be honest,_ she scolded herself and shoved her hands in her pockets. _Short and sweet, Clarke. Apologize, explain that it's you, not her, and then go... Pleasant... Maybe a coffee, and then scram. Quick and clean and it'll be like it never happened-_

Clarke gave a slight yelp and jumped as the door flung open.

"What are you _doing?"_

Pressing a hand to her chest, Clarke stared at the face haloed in a wash of soft light, taking in the confused expression that colored the sharp face. She felt the wild thrumming in her chest stutter and then pound as her eyes swept over the woman framed in the doorway, an increasingly familiar warmth curling over her brain at the sight.

Because Lexa looked… soft.

And domestic, in an oversized cream colored knit sweater, the cut of it hanging low on her hips over loose fitting black lounge pants. Her hair hung in waves, relaxed and loose from the day, the bulk of its silky tendrils pulled over one shoulder.

A little row of toes peeked out from beneath unrolled cuffs, causing Clarke to mentally slap herself when her first thought was whether they were cold in the chilled evening air.

"Clarke."

"Lexa," she snapped back to attention at the crisp call of her name.

"Is this something you do on a regular basis? Slinking around outside people's houses, or is it just a 'me' thing?"

"No, I- I know you don't want to see me."

"What?"

"But I need to talk to you."

"Then why didn't you knock?" Lexa asked, hands still braced on either side of the door frame. "I've been listening to your heels thumping around out here for the past five minutes, it's driving me nuts."

"Right. Of course. I'm sorry."

"Thanks. This foyer echoes like crazy, it's a pain in my-"

"No," Clarke cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand. "Not that, Lexa. I'm trying to say… _I'm_ sorry. About last night. I came here to say I'm sorry about last night."

"... Last night."

"And the whole…"

"... Having filthy animal sex with me and then running off?" Lexa supplied as her brows climbed to her hairline. 

"Yes, that." Giving a stiff nod in return, Clarke quickly resumed her pacing while thoroughly ignoring the deep blush to her cheeks. "That was… completely out of line. And, and callous. Not to mention childish. It's just, I was upset, and… There was lots of emotions going on, and I freaked out. And when I freak out, I tend to shut down. And bolt. But that still doesn't excuse-"

"Clarke." 

She halted in her tracks at the soft call of her name as Lexa raised a hand for her to stop mid-ramble. 

"Thank you," Lexa said softly and leaned a hip on the door. "But you really don't need to apologize for that. I'm not angry with you."

"... You're not?"

"No," Lexa shook her head with a sigh, crossing her arms across her waist. "You reacted on instinct. I get that. If anything… I'm sorry."

Clarke stared slack jawed at the woman across from her as Lexa looked down and idly picked a few bundled pills of lint from her sweater. 

"What you saw the other night, that's not a face humans are meant to see outside of... very bad situations. It's _meant_ to scare them. And I'm sorry you had to feel that."

"... You're… apologizing to me?"

"Of course I am," she murmured and looked back up. "I scared you half to death, I feel terrible about that."

"But- No, wait," Clarke fumbled. "Why have you been avoiding me then? Stayed locked in your office and had Raven bring… You ignored me all day."

Lexa's eyes blew wide, head tipping forward in a look of shock. "Ignored you? I wasn't ignoring you. I was giving you _space._ The last time I saw you, you were literally running away from me in terror, I wasn't going to force you to have a conversation with me when you weren't ready."

Slowly rolling the words through her mind, Clarke's shoulders slumped as she continued to stare at Lexa with a blank, perplexed look.

"... You were… giving me space…"

"Yes. I'd already screwed this up enough as it was, I didn't want to make it worse… Especially after you made me feel so good," Lexa slipped in, slowly grinning as she let her head tilt to the side. "I tell you what, gorgeous, I've had a lot of orgasms in my time here on Earth-"

"I-I, I really didn't need to know that," Clarke interrupted, ignoring the flutter that accompanied hearing the renewed usage of the nickname.

"But being with you was the only thing that's ever made me lose it to the point I couldn't keep myself under control." Biting at the swell of her lip, Lexa pushed away from the door and took a small step closer. "You're very impressive with your hands, Ms. Griffin."

"Stop, stop," Clarke shook her head, closing her eyes for a second with a frown. "You're serious right now? You're really not in the least bit upset with me, and you're just going to flirt with me again like nothing happened."

"Well I'm not going to say it didn't sting a bit," Lexa shrugged, dropping her arms as she continued to inch her way closer. "Still, I understand. Truth is, it took us both by surprise. But if that's the price to pay for coming that hard, I'd gladly do it again and again."

"Oh my god, why are you constantly like this?"

"Demon-"

"Demon."

Clarke rolled her eyes at herself as she immediately answered her own question alongside Lexa's smirking response. 

"See? You're starting to come around," Lexa teased, reaching out to tug on the hem of Clarke's blouse. "Besides, I don't know why you seem so intent on me being upset. While admittedly it didn't feel _fantastic_ being looked at like an abomination, again, I do understand."

Clarke chewed at the inner bend of cheek as she contemplated the reassuring words, still not quite sure exactly how she was supposed to be handling this. 

She'd been expecting at least _some_ sort of tongue lashing from the woman. 

Of the non-sexy variety. 

Certainly not… this. 

"Also," Lexa continued in a conspiratorial whisper, interrupting Clarke's inner battle of guilt as she slowly walked her fingers up the plain of Clarke's belly. "Not gonna lie... I was way more upset that I didn't have a chance to get you off. Felt kinda jipped-."

"Jesus, okay, wait," Clarke huffed, grabbing Lexa's wrist and trapping her hand flat against her stomach. "We need to actually talk right now, not have another round of 'Lexa drives Clarke to sexual insanity'."

"Is that what you call me flirting with you? That's so fun."

"Yeah, your relentlessness is a riot."

"I told you all you have to do is tell me to stop."

Clarke swallowed as silence fell heavy between them, heat raising up her neck as Lexa regarded her with cool eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and nodded with a renewed determination. 

"I want to get to know you instead."

"Pardon?" Lexa asked with a breathy, incredulous laugh. 

"I just," Clarke said, releasing her grip on Lexa to twist her hands in anxious knots as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "You're so… I can't figure you out. And I don't know why, considering how insufferable you are the majority of the time, but I just want to know about you, alright? I mean you're a demon and I just… I'm curious, I guess."

"So all that, 'you're fucking infuriating, don't ask me personal questions, none of this is your business' stuff was… what? Exactly?"

"Ugh, okay, listen," Clarke scoffed and indignantly held up her pointer. "I stand by all of that. You _are_ annoying. And infuriating. And literally one of the rudest, most inappropriate people I've ever met in my entire life."

"You're kinda sexy when you're insulting me."

_"But-"_

"Are we about to kiss?"

" _Buuut_ ," Clarke scowled, ignoring the smirking woman entirely, "for whatever godforsaken reason… I can't seem to stop thinking about you. Not like- I mean, I can't figure you out. At all. You talk about committing murder like it's a trip to the grocery store, but then do this amazing thing for Raven the exact same day. You terrorize half the office and completely fuck over your clients, but you take the time to buy a secretary a goddamn cupcake even when she's been a complete bitch to you. I don't get it."

"I like Raven and I find you very attractive, Clarke. It's not exactly a riddle."

"Yes, and then there's that. You chase me around the office and flirt with me constantly, but then have all these boundaries and weird moral codes that come out of nowhere. You show me these snippets of who you are, without ever _actually_ letting me know anything about you, and it just leaves me constantly spinning in my own head… And then the other night, you let me…"

"... Fuck me senseless in my office?"

Clarke felt the heat of her neck creep up to the apples of her cheeks as she rolled her eyes, only to be met with a shrug. "In less profane terms," she said pointedly, "yes. But then I ran off, and apparently you're not even angry with me."

"Well if you'd like me to be angry, we both certainly know how you could make it up to me."

"See? That. Stop doing that."

"Stop doing what?"

Clarke stared at her with flat eyes. "You know what. Every time I ask you a question or try to be serious, you turn it into a joke. Or something sexual. You're never just honest about anything."

"I like flirting with you. It's fun, and I think you're cute when you do that little embarrassed grumpy face thing," Lexa said unapologetically, mimicking what Clarke assumed had to be an insultingly bad rendition of herself. "I've never lied about that, Clarke. Everything else, you've just never asked. You _can_ actually ask me things, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, that seems to be the theme for the day… don't ask," Clarke grumbled at Lexa's confusion. 

"Okay. Then ask me stuff. And if there's anything I don't want to share, I won't. But I haven't lied to you, and I'm not going to start now."

Clarke eyed her warily for a moment, taking in the relaxed air of Lexa's body. The way she never looked away from her, almost challenging Clarke to argue. 

"Fine," she agreed instead, squaring her shoulders and slipping past a surprised looking Lexa into the apartment.

She heard Lexa chuckle behind her before the click of the door being shut. "Please, come in, make yourself at home."

The soft sounds of Lexa's bare feet blended with the sharp clack of Clarke's own heels as she strode past the row of hooks she had only laid eyes on once before. 

Her steps stumbled as her mind suddenly caught up to the fact that was actually walking inside of Lexa's home. Clarke's eyes swept from side to side as she breathed in the faint spicy wisps of old perfume that lingered in the air, her attention snapping here and there as she took in so much that she had missed on her initial… impromptu visit. 

The grey walls of the foyer emptied out into a kind of crossroads, a step to the left leading you up a steep and narrow staircase, while a step to the right opened to the main floor of the living room. Emerging into the living room, Clarke was met with the site of the room she'd spent only a handful of seconds contemplating the previous week. 

The space looked larger and warmer than it had from the outside. 

Clarke scanned the simplistically adorned mantel and tables, seeing very little that screamed as personal belongings. 

No pictures, no mementos, nothing telling of a rich life having been lived within the walls of the home.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Lexa asked, breaking Clarke out of her evaluation as she glided around and past the woman who had halted in her tracks. "Water? Wine? Perhaps a chilled Gatorade in case you feel like going for a late night sprint at some point?"

Eyes snapping back from where they'd been roving over the line of small statues above the fireplace, Clarke shot Lexa an unimpressed look and moved more fully into the room. 

"I deserved that, I suppose," she drawled as she shrugged off her jacket.

Lexa smirked from where she leaned a hip on a desk that held her discarded purse and keys, alongside a few stacks of legal pads and an expensive looking laptop. "Just trying to be a good host. Don't get a lot of visitors."

"Somehow that doesn't exactly surprise me. No offense." 

"None taken."

"Good. Now..." 

Whirling around on her heel after folding her jacket and setting it aside next to her bag, Clarke promptly lowered herself onto the couch and settled herself right in. 

Motioning to the spot beside her, Clarke crossed her legs and looked over at Lexa expectantly. 

"You're serious right now? I finally have you in my house and you want to play 'interview'?"

"You said I could ask you questions. So," she held a palm out toward the cushion beside her again, "have a seat."

Releasing a suffering sigh, Lexa pushed off of the lip of the desk and trudged her way over to sit down. 

"We really could be doing this someplace much more comfortable, ya know. And fun," she tsked while crossing her legs as well. "Like at a restaurant over dinner… Or my bedroom-"

"Behave."

"I'm just saying," she held her hands up in surrender. "I have a great bed."

Clarke leveled her with a stony look of silence. 

"Sorry," Lexa grinned before wiping the smile away. Primly folding her hands together in her lap, she cleared her throat and stared at Clarke with a faux look of intense, solemn focus. "Please, continue."

Rolling her eyes, Clarke snorted a laugh and leaned back against the arm of the couch behind her. "Okay, so… for starters. What's your actual name?"

"Ooo. _Kinky."_

"Lexa."

"What? You know my name. It's Alexandria, just like my letterhead says."

"Seriously?" Clarke questioned with a quirk of her brow. "It's really Alexandria?"

"Yes," Lexa shrugged as she relaxed into the cushions herself. "I prefer Lexa now, though."

Clarke blinked several times as she took the information in, rolling the name around her mind and tasting it on her tongue. "Alexandria… It's pretty."

"Thanks," Lexa laughed through her nose.

"No it is," she insisted. "And… strangely fitting, for some reason. Lexa's more… I don't know. It suits you, but Alexandria seems more… mystical?"

"Yes, well. He's always had a flare for theatrics."

"Oh, like you're one to talk."

"Hm. Like father, like daughter, I guess."

Seeing the dark shadow that crept across Lexa's face, Clarke frowned at how the woman's eyes refused to meet her own. 

"You really weren't kidding, were you?" she gently asked after a moment. "You're not just a-... You actually did use to be an angel, didn't you?"

"Why would I kid about that?"

"I don't know… You just seem so much more willing to talk about the demon thing."

"The demon thing," Lexa grinned. "You really are adorable."

"Why don't you talk about it? The angel stuff I mean."

"Would you enjoy reminiscing about a place you weren't wanted?" she asked with a shake of her head. "I got a one-way eviction notice without so much as a goodbye. Excuse me if I'm not particularly keen on singing its praises."

"But it's a piece of who you are. It's important."

"Clarke-"

"Why did you get kicked-"

"Can we talk about something else?"

Clarke quieted at the hollow, pleading look being thrown at her, her body shifting slightly as she reached up to swipe away a small bead of sweat when the air seemed to thicken.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Lexa said as she looked to force her face into a gentle smile. "Just… What else would you like to know? Something fun. Like my favorite food. Or my bra size."

Breathing a deep sigh as she completely ignored all of that, Clarke tried a different tack. "May I ask _when_ you… left there? How long have you been here? Or is that too…"

"I fell with the rest of them," Lexa replied in a resigned, bored tone. "When Lucifer got the truly genius idea to call 'dibs' on the throne and turned everything into an absolute shit show."

Clarke stared with wide eyes, not exactly sure how to digest that bit of information. "That… Alright… So, you, uh. You sided with the-... devil, or whatever."

"No," Lexa said, startling Clarke with a wide incredulous smile and a loud bark of laughter. "God, no. Listen. Little insider info for you, Luce may be a lot of things, but smart isn't one of them… Cunning, sure. Opportunistic? Absolutely. But, smart? No. You'd have to be really fucking stupid to have followed him into the brilliant idea of _declaring war on God,_ Clarke. Please, have just a touch more faith in me than that."

"But you just said--"

"I was cast out for other reasons," Lexa interrupted with an air of finality. "Believe it or not, there's more than one way to piss off the big guy. And while I was still found unworthy when the judgement came down, I was not guilty in the same way. My punishment is completely different from theirs."

"Is that why you're allowed to be on Earth instead of… down there?" Clarke asked with a grimaced, cheeks pinking under Lexa's amused smile. "I can't believe I'm just sitting here talking about this like it's not insane."

"Hm… Well, to your question, if you're asking if that is why I'm not bound to-... 'down there', then, yes," Lexa answered, the smooth tick of her voice wildly at odds with the actual words coming out of her mouth. Everything about her served to make the moment all the more surreal in Clarke's mind. "But make no mistake, when I was expelled, that's exactly where I went. We all did."

"... Hell of a family trip," Clarke feebly joked after a moment of awkward and heavy silence, breathing a sigh of relief only when Lexa looked startled, and then promptly broke into quiet laughter. 

"That's one way to look at it," Lexa nodded as her chuckling subsided. "... Thing is, Lucifer doesn't particularly care for companions he can't dominate."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. Everyone else who got the 'Good Lord's' stanky boot out of Heaven did so because they backed him. So in reality, their punishment is that they're bound to him, not Hell, but that's a common misconception. Only, I didn't back him. So, I'm not. And that _really_ pisses him off," she said with a sneered smile. "Long story short, that's mostly why I came here."

Clarke blew out a slow breath, shaking her head minutely as she grappled to keep up. "This is all so…"

Lexa gave her an understanding smile before rising from her seat and taking a few wandering steps around the back of the couch. 

"Overwhelming?" she supplied.

"Kind of an understatement there, Lex."

Coming to a stop, Lexa leaned her forearms on the back of the couch and bent down, Clarke swallowing as it lowered her so dangerously close to her face. 

"Tell you what," Lexa said quietly. "Let me get you that wine. I have a feeling it might help right now."

With a quick twist of a grin, Lexa pushed back up and turned to head toward the kitchen.

"Yes, because alcohol always leads to clearer minds."

"Jesus drank wine, ya know."

"Yeah, well, why do I feel like you just wanna get me drunk?" Clarke called over her shoulder as she turned to watch Lexa duck out of the room. She could hear the clink of glass on metal a moment later, followed by the faint sound of Lexa's heavy pour.

Her eyes dragged over the swing of full hips when Lexa quickly rounded the corner again, an impish smile pulling at even fuller lips as she lifted her prized offering. 

Handing Clarke one of the half-filled glasses, she set down the precariously balanced bottle on the table before settling back into her seat. 

"Drunk? Wouldn't dream of it. Cheers."

/////////////

"It was hot."

"Lexa."

"What?" Lexa smiled with wide eyed innocence as she popped a piece of chicken in her mouth and set aside the now empty container of food. "It was."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Clarke stared the woman down and took a sip, holding delightedly twinkling eyes as they danced with amusement over the rim of her glass.

The night had stretched on without Clarke noticing, one topic flowing into the next as they just… talked. About Lexa, about her life, mostly tidbits here and there, but enough for a hazy picture to begin forming in Clarke's head. 

It surprised her how relaxed she felt, the pair sprawled lazily at opposite ends of the small but cushy couch. 

And she had learned quite quickly over a few glasses of wine, along with a hastily acquired dinner of some of Lexa's leftover Chinese from her fridge, just how easily the woman seemed to fold beneath the weight of Clarke's gaze. 

Having spent the better part of the last few hours sharing wine and food and stories, alcohol indeed seemed to make Lexa's lips much looser, and only steeled Clarke's resolve to find out as much as she could. And digging her heels in, until Lexa would focus, apparently was the best way to keep the flow of conversation steered down the more informative paths only. 

For the most part. 

But Clarke took what she could. 

With a sigh, Lexa tipped sideways, pulling a leg up to lay bent on the newly freed space between them and rested her arm along the back of the couch.

"Fine… You really wanna know what it was like?"

"Yes," Clarke smiled across at her, exasperatedly shaking her head where it laid propped up in her palm. "Despite fully acknowledging I'm probably only going to be scarring myself here, yes, I really do want to know."

Lexa was quiet for a moment as she sobered and her face grew contemplative, her lips pursing as she seemed to weigh her answer before she spoke again. 

"Lonely."

"What?"

"It was lonely," Lexa repeated in a murmur as a distant look shadowed her face. "Everyone-... Have you ever been in a room full of people, and you knew without a doubt, none of them wanted you there?"

Clarke swallowed the thick lump that rose in her throat at the question. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded when Lexa blinked the past from her eyes and looked over at her again.

"It was like that. Once the judgement came down… none of them ever looked at me the same."

"And that's why you left?"

"Yeah," Lexa breathed and drained the rest of her glass before reaching over to grab the bottle that sat beside them. "Plus, like I said, it was _really_ fucking hot down there."

"Oh, Jesus," Clarke scoffed with a smile, accepting the silent offer to top off her glass as well. 

"It was," Lexa insisted as she set the bottle back down and took her place again. "You have no idea the rapture I felt when they finally invented central air here." 

"Seriously? Air conditioning? That's what you get excited over?"

"Human's greatest invention," she confirmed and clinked Clarke's glass with her own. "Other than chocolate and sex, of course."

"Of course."

Smiling at the roll of Clarke's eyes, Lexa shuffled a bit in her seat and drummed her fingers against the cushion behind them. "So, what next? Any other questions about the fiery realm?"

"No, but-" Clarke started and then stopped, biting her lip as she chewed on the question that clung on the tip of her tongue. 

"What is it?"

"It's just… Can I ask you something?"

"As opposed to what you've been doing?"

"No, I mean like… Can I completely change directions here? Without you getting the wrong impression?"

"Oo, now this sounds interesting. Is it dirty?"

Rolling her eyes with a resounding click of her tongue, Clarke sat up straighter and folded her legs beneath her. "Not like _that._ No, it's just- I don't want you to think I'm… judging you, I guess? I mean, I don't really know exactly _how_ I feel about it. So I figured I actually should just talk to you about it. And the wine is helping. Thank you for this, by the way. And dinner. But, anyway, the thing is, it's always only ever been wrong, right? And now with you, there's all these different factors that don't apply to anyone else, so I can't really say if it's wrong. And honestly, I have no idea what to think or feel or-"

"Gorgeous?"

Clarke halted her ramble at Lexa's slightly yelled interruption, finally registering the wide-eyed smile shining at her from across the couch. 

"Breathe. And recalibrate. You're not making any sense."

Clicking her jaw shut, Clarke sucked in a lungful of much needed air as she rapidly nodded and internally thumped herself over the head. "Right. Sorry. Okay... So… Nia-"

"Egh," Lexa let her head flop back groaned to the heavens. "Noooo. We were having such a nice evening."

"I'm not-" she huffed, reaching forward to tug at Lexa's collar to get her attention again. "Stop being dramatic, I'm not going to give you hell for that. I just… I want to know more about all that. How you know all that stuff. About the kids and things in her past. But not just about her, about everything, really. Like, how you choose who you're going to… kill. Or not kill."

"Oh," Lexa said with ease after eventually righting herself. "I read them."

Clarke stared at her blankly. "You're trying to tell me you can read minds?"

Lexa hummed for a moment as she pulled a face before answering. "It's not that I actually read people's minds, I can't do that… It's more like, I can read their… sins. Sort of. Sometimes I can read their intentions, but that depends on the person. Mostly I can just read intrinsically who they are, the stains of their past, the things that weigh on their soul… I'm not sure how to describe it in ways that make sense."

"Please try harder."

"Well I don't know what to say," Lexa huffed through a laugh. "It's not exactly like this is a conversation ever really meant for human understanding. I can just see it when I focus on a person; I can see and feel things they've done or plan to do. Or, well, the demon part of me can. I just don't exploit it in the same way the others do."

"So it's like a tool? Or an instinct?"

"Something like that."

Clarke stared down at the dark crimson in her glass, giving it a slow swirl. "Have you… ever done that to me?"

"No," Lexa hummed, reaching forward to run her finger over the hand carelessly sat between them. Clarke's eyes snapped to the touch, feeling warm chills prickle her skin as she watched a delicate finger trace the lines of her palm. "I wanna hear _you_ tell me about yourself."

"But that is how you choose who to… deal with."

"Yes," Lexa said with quiet intensity as she pulled away, the steady cadence of her voice leaving no room for argument. "I have no interest in giving these people the benefit of the doubt, or fooling myself with the notion that perhaps they might be better someday. Forgiveness isn't my business anymore, and it hasn't been for a very, very long time… But I truly don't kill indiscriminately, so if they're on my radar, they deserve it. That much I can promise you."

Clarke slowly nodded, taking a healthy gulp of wine in the hopes it would help steady her hand. She felt the flush of alcohol mix with the heat of Lexa's gaze and the residual tickle of her touch, allowing the words that tumbled through her head to eventually trip out against her better judgement. 

"How many people have you killed?"

Lexa regarded her with a small smile and lift of her brow. "You mean this month or…"

"Lexa."

"I'm not sure."

"I don't believe that," Clarke challenged. 

"... No?"

"No," she minutely shook her head and held darkened green eyes. "I may not know everything about you, but from what I do know-- even just from what you've told me tonight… I'd be willing to bet you remember every single one."

She waited as Lexa took a long moment to respond, the weighted feeling of being studied making her toes curl and neck itch. Clarke forced herself to stay perfectly still, smothering every one of her emotions into a look of bland nothingness, knowing by now even one tiny twitch would steal away her answer.

Taking a slow pull from her glass and licking her stained lips clean, Lexa finally tipped her head and smirked. 

"I remember their faces."

"Their faces?"

"Mhm. I truly don't know the exact number… But yes, I remember all of their faces."

Despite the sickening knowledge that now lay on her conscience, the swirling thought of exactly how many faces must parade through Lexa's head, Clarke couldn't help the perverted feeling of victory from rising in her chest. She wished she could hate the celebration and pride that thundered through her brain at not only having been correct about Lexa, but having apparently been deemed worthy of such apparently private information. 

Riding the macabre high of the moment, Clarke pushed a little further.

"What does it feel like? To kill them? And then to remember them?"

"Peaceful," Lexa answered immediately. "I feel at peace with it. Righteous even, if not angry that they got away with it in the first place. I certainly don't mourn their passing, or feel any guilt about it, if that's what you're actually asking... There's a rightness to the knowledge they can no longer hurt anyone, and that's mostly what I focus on."

"How do you do it?"

"Kill them?" Lexa asked and waited for Clarke's nod. "It's different every time. Sometimes it looks like an accident, sometimes a medical issue. Sometimes I have zero patience with what I've seen, and it's over before they even know what's happening… It's different every time."

"Well then- Like, to not get caught, what do you do with the bodies?"

"I eat them."

Clarke's hand flew up as her mouth dropped open, her stomach lurching as-

"I am kidding, oh my god," Lexa burst out with startled laughter, setting her glass down in a hurry and fluidly shuffling forward to empty the space between them. "Clarke, calm down, I was just kidding. I do _not_ eat people."

Clarke stared at her in horrified silence, chest heaving and eyes darting to every inch of Lexa's face… before pulling her hand away from her mouth to violently shove the living shit out of her.

"That. Was. Not. Funny."

Each of her words were punctuated with light slaps and pinches to anything within reach as Clarke rose to knees and hovered over Lexa when she flopped back with a yelp. Her hands rained down swats and half-hearted blows across arms, thighs, and stomach as Lexa attempted to stifle her cackling. 

_"Ow!_ I'm sorry! _Stop!"_

"No! You jerk," she grunted as Lexa curled and twisted this way and that in a fruitless attempt to escape the assault. "Why would you say that?"

Finally catching vengeance seeking hands, Lexa wrangled Clarke's wrists in a loose grip and yanked, effectively pinning them to her chest. "It was a joke, gorgeous. Things were getting entirely too serious, I wanted to lighten the mood."

"And a cannibalism joke was your solution?!"

Snorting another mirthful sound, Lexa slung an unconvincingly apologetic frown across her lips. "It just popped into my head, I'm sorry. Honestly, I am. I really was just trying to make you laugh."

"Mission failed, Lexa. Mission spectacularly failed."

A hand released her a moment later, her eyes following it as Lexa reached to tuck back a curl that had fallen across Clarke's face, ignoring the flutter in her belly when the touch lingered. "I'm sorry… No more jokes like that, okay?"

"I cannot stand you sometimes," Clarke grumbled.

"Forgive me?" Lexa cooed with a pout, hand slipping down to cup her face. "I just… I feel so comfortable with you… Like I _can_ joke with you, even when they're terrible… I've never felt that here before."

Feeling a deep swoop low in her core, Clarke suddenly realizing how close they were; how she'd somehow managed to settle within the cradle of the woman's legs in the onslaught of her attack. 

She watched green eyes grow hooded as Clarke wet her lips, seeing teeth unconsciously tug at wine stained ones in answer.

"I like you so much, Clarke… So much I can barely stand it."

A coiling pulse of arousal shot through her, settling in a molten, aching heat between Clarke's thighs. "Why don't you ever just kiss me first?"

"For the same reason I don't read you." Clarke furrowed her brow as Lexa looked back up to her eyes. "I want you. But I'll never take anything you don't want to give… No matter how much I know you want us, too."

"How do you know what I want?"

"I can feel it," Lexa husked with quiet words, pupils blown wide and staring hungrily. "I don't try to, I promise, it just happens. Since the first day I met you, it's like I can feel you all over me... Sometimes I almost wish I couldn't with how crazy it makes me. But for some reason, I can always feel when you want me."

Clarke gulped through the dryness coating her throat. "When… When do you feel me?"

"When you watch me in those little skirts I wear, knowing I wear them only for you… When you think about me while sitting at your desk, about things that make you blush without even saying a word."

"You feel that?" Clarke quietly groaned, eyes sliding closed in embarrassment as she tipped forward and rested their heads together. 

"I love feeling how wet you get for me. It's like our little secret. Everyone around us working and going about their day, while all you can think about is me fucking you… I just don't understand why you won't let me."

Clarke trembled as fingers glided along the length of her jaw, the gentle drag of nails burning trails over her skin as a thumb caressed the swell of her lips.

"I-" she said, her voice faint and wobbly as she pulled her head away. "I can't."

"You can," Lexa insisted, raising up on her elbow to follow. "Didn't it feel amazing last night? Being close to me, having me like that? Wrapped so tight around you? I wanna make you feel that good too, gorgeous… Just kiss me."

The air stole from the room, Clarke feeling the very walls cradling them from reality as a hand slipped through the curls at the base of her neck and massaged, the warmth of Lexa's breath fanning over her skin. 

She sighed as Lexa gently brushed her nose against hers, soft sounds of want drifting from low in her chest.

"Lex…"

"I really like it when you call me that," she breathed and leaned in further.

"Lex," Clarke purred deeper. 

A low keening sent her spiraling as thighs tightened around her hips.

_"Fuck."_

The word felt like a gunshot to the head, in how dizzying it was when breathed so hot and close to her skin. 

Before she could question a single thing in that moment, Clarke let herself melt onto waiting lips.

Lexa fell back with a rumbling moan as Clarke followed her down. Hands threaded through her hair and held her close, pulling further into the embrace as plump lips nipped at her own. Clarke kissed her in slow moments, drowning in the luscious give of Lexa's mouth. 

She ran her hands over Lexa's body that bent and bowed to her touch, taking her time to caress full hips and up, to the dip of a trim waist and expanding mountains of her ribs. 

Breath shuddered and gasped beneath her as she skimmed over the swell of small breasts, through the scratchy cream of Lexa's sweater. Hands shifted from Clarke's hair to clutch at her tighter, everything Lexa could do to encourage her for more. 

Clarke's head swam as she felt Lexa pushing forward, a searching kind of urgency beginning to color her grip. She clung harder, fuller, as she felt a hand drift down toward her-

"Wait," Clarke croaked and wrenched away with a wet squelch at the first feeling of a tongue lapping at her mouth. 

She felt embarrassed heat flow to her cheeks as she realized with a jolt the motion of her hips, how they'd dropped flush and begun a slow rock into the welcoming body beneath her, without her even noticing. 

"You are going to be the death of me," Lexa breathed with an airy laugh as she let her arms and legs starfish out and dangle over the sides of the couch. "A millennia, hell, and the literal wrath of God, and it's gonna be overstimulated sexual combustion that takes me out."

Clarke couldn't help the roll of her eyes at the pathetic scene splayed out before her, pushing herself up on shaky hands and legs to sit back and settle on her heels with a grunt. 

"I wanna talk about this, stop being dramatic."

"I'm dying," Lexa feebly gasped and flopped an arm over her eyes. 

"Get _up."_

"I can't. Leave me."

"Oh my god," Clarke tsked, dropping her hands to Lexa's waist and slowly inched the hem of her sweater upward. 

When Lexa's arm flew up from her face and a brilliant smile exploded across her lips, Clarke immediately pulled her hands away. 

"Now that I have your attention-"

Lexa's mouth dropped open in devastation. "... Treachery."

"Will you please focus?"

"No."

Breathing a soft sigh at the petulant answer, Clarke chewed at the edge of her lip as her fingers mindlessly played with the drawstring of Lexa's pants. "Well I'm being serious right now, Lexa, so just listen… I didn't come here with the intention of kissing you, ya know?"

"I'm not complaining about the development. And you haven't run off this time, so I feel like we're heading in the right direction."

"Can I get this out? Please?" Waiting for Lexa's begrudging nod, Clarke continued. "I fully wanted to tell you that everything about the other night was a mistake. In a nice way, hopefully… But then..."

"My sexual magnetism reeled you back in?" Lexa smirked while sitting up and loosely slinging her arms around Clarke's hips. 

"Hardly," Clarke deadpanned while fighting her blush at the hold.

"Seriously. What's the problem, gorgeous? Talk to me."

Taking in the eyes glittering up at her, Clarke swallowed down the urge to give a snarky retort, instead surprising even herself. "Well for starters… You're a demon."

"I am."

"Who kills people."

"I do."

"And to be perfectly honest, that still really fuck's with my head when I think about it too long. And morally, I have no idea what I'm doing here because… I mean you have this whole ethical thing you do, and who even am I to pretend to know better… So when I put all _that_ stuff aside, when I just think about, you know, _you..._ I think I might actually, kind of... like you." 

Lexa's eyebrows shot up at the mumbled admission as her mouth pulled into a pleased smile.

_"Oh?"_

Clarke immediately retreated along with any speck of misplaced civility. "I mean, you're fucking awful."

"Awful-ly likeable."

"Shut up," Clarke grumbled. "But, I don't know… Between the Raven thing, and just talking to you tonight and… the whole, you not being completely unattractive thing… I maybe, possibly… don't hate you as much as I thought."

"Oh my God, we're gonna get married."

"Seriously, will you shut the fuck up," Clarke laughed along with Lexa despite herself. "I'm barely even considering being friends with you right now."

"Friends?" Lexa asked as her mouth fell into a lopsided frown. 

Clarke nodded sagely. "Friends. _Tentative_ friends."

"... Just friends?"

"Mhm."

Lexa squinted up through a firm pout, before blowing out a resigned sigh of acceptance. "Okay, fine," she huffed. "Just friends."

"Good."

"Who make out sometimes."

"Lexa."

Lexa shrugged, flexing the arms still wrapped around Clarke's waist. Stretching her neck upward, Lexa pressed the ghost of her lips to underside of Clarke's jaw and whispered into her skin. "You don't like kissing me?"

"... That's not the point."

"Then we can be friends who kiss… And happen to have sex sometimes."

_"Lexa."_

"I didn't mean anything crazy. Just like a friendly four or five times a week kinda thing."

"Alright, that's my cue to go," Clarke scoffed and pulled herself back before she could lose the plot of this agreement any more than she already had. Reaching behind herself to grab Lexa's wrists, Clarke flung them to the woman's sides and shuffled backward.

"What?" Lexa asked indignantly while fighting back a smile. "What'd I do?"

Clarke amusedly guffawed at the woman as she stood from the couch and grabbed her jacket and bag. "Just… You. You never know when to quit while you're ahead. You always want everything all at once."

"What can I say, I'm a demon," Lexa smirked. "Gluttony is my second favorite sin."

"What's your first favor-- _Don't,"_ Clarke immediately cut back with a raised hand as Lexa's smile turned wicked. "... Don't answer that."

"You're no fun."

Clarke shook her head at the woman as she finished slipping on her jacket. Fishing her phone out of its pocket, she checked the time. 

She rolled her eyes at herself.

She'd been there for three fucking hours. 

"It's getting kinda late," Lexa hummed as if reading her mind from where she'd righted herself on the couch, wine in hand once again as she took another sip.

"It's fine," Clarke sighed and finished buttoning up. "Next train doesn't leave for ten minutes."

"Train?" Lexa questioned and pulled a face. "Gross. Let me call you a car."

"No thanks," Clarke said and stuffed her phone back into her pocket and hitched her bag over her shoulder. "Train's good."

"Seriously, Clarke. It's already dark out," Lexa frowned and climbed up off the couch as she stepped away, Clarke hearing the padding of her feet as she quickly followed her to the door. "Just let me call you a ride."

"Really, it's fine, but thank you," she assured as she flipped the lock and opened the door. "I do it almost every day unless I feel like walking. It's really no big deal."

"Well, wait a second," Lexa huffed, grabbing at the elbow of Clarke's coat enough to stop her from completely walking out. "I at least wanna know you got home safely."

Clarke blinked at her for a moment as her brain caught up with the complaintive tone. 

"How?"

"Are you serious right now?" Lexa asked with a furrow between her brows, reaching forward and snaking a hand into Clarke's pocket. Before she could object, Lexa pulled out Clarke's phone and started tapping away on it. "Which one of us is human again?"

"Please, by all means," she sighed and leaned against the door frame beside her. 

"You really should put a lock code on this," Lexa mumbled absently as she kept typing. After a moment she darkened the screen and took a step forward. 

Clarke's breath hitched as Lexa moved smoothly into her personal space, swallowing a noise to strangle and die in the back of her throat when slim fingers tugged at the waist of her slacks. 

"It's safer here," Lexa grinned, slipping the phone into Clarke's front pocket instead. 

"Th- Thanks," Clarke rasped, earning a deeper smile and hooded eyes.

Lexa was quiet for a moment, pearly white teeth peeking out as she bit at the swell of her full bottom lip. 

"... Thank you for coming by," she murmured. "Even though I wasn't angry with you, it meant a lot."

"Oh, well," Clarke said with a flustered chuckle, small puffs of white fog bursting from her lips in the cold evening air. "It's no problem. I owed it to you, I shouldn't have just run off last night. I really am sorry for that."

"Don't be," Lexa said with a soft smile. "It got you here… Again."

Clarke gave a scoff and a swat to Lexa's stomach. "I'm never gonna live that down am I?"

"Probably not. But like I said, you're cute when you're embarrassed."

"Oh yeah, so cute I want to throw myself off a bridge remembering falling on my ass after perving on my coworker as I ran and screamed in terror."

She struggled to not fidget as Lexa simply watched her, her expression so soft and open and every bit understanding. Clarke felt her stomach flip and tingling heat light up her veins when Lexa's eyes seemed to shine as they studied every inch of her face. 

"For what it's worth," Lexa finally spoke, her words barely a whisper, "you kind of terrify me too."

Clarke wet her lips as a strange swelling filled her chest. Her ribs felt too tight and her skin far too hot for the chilled bite of December air. 

Releasing a shaky breath, she pushed up off the door frame, tossing a small smile as Lexa mirrored her movements. Nodding like an idiot as her brain refused to function, Clarke grasped the strap of her bag in a fist and regretfully decided to signal her departure with a salute. 

"Alright, well I'm gonna go," she awkwardly fumbled, ignoring Lexa's quiet snort of laughter when she spun and raced toward the steps. 

On the third step down, she froze as a nagging thought pulled at her, her fight or flight instinct waging a quick war inside of her. 

Hesitating for only a second, Clarke huffed and doubled back, shooting up the stoop in quick fire steps. 

"What's wrong-"

Cutting Lexa off, Clarke grabbed a handful of her sweater to pull her in close, and planted a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

She felt more than heard the sharp intake of Lexa's breath, biting back a smile as every muscle in the woman's body seemed to lock up in surprise. 

Pulling away, Clarke stared everywhere but ahead. 

"... 'Kay, goodnight."

With silent prayers for the earth to swallow her whole, Clarke released Lexa with a borderline shove and spun around again, continuing to resolutely avert her eyes altogether. Blindly waving over her shoulder as she left, she took the steps two at a time as she beat a hasty retreat. 

"Goodnight, gorgeous," came Lexa's chuckled call behind her. "Don't forget to-"

"- Let you know when I get home, yep," Clarke finished, putting the final nail in her coffin of mortification when she flashed a farewell thumbs up into the air. 

Rounding the block as quickly as possible, Clarke finally let herself breathe. Sucking in lungfuls of cold winter air, that smelled of moonlight and snow, and forgetting all her embarrassment for a few stolen moments, Clarke allowed herself a tiny smile.

At how surprising the night had gone, at how she'd made good on her word to Raven, at how maybe, just maybe, she wasn't actually as insufferable as she'd talked herself into believing. Though it was _Lexa,_ she reminded herself as she boarded her train home, she kind of thought the night had gone splendidly.

All things considered. 

And she wondered to herself, as she fought with the lock on her small apartment door, exactly what she'd gotten herself into. Because while she volleyed back and forth on her decision earlier in the evening… Clarke couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to actually have more than one friend. 

Head still a bit light from the wine and the evening of closeness, she replayed the tenderness she had seen in Lexa's eyes over and over again as she kicked off her shoes.

Slipping her hand in her pocket with the intention to make good on yet another promise, the smile instantly fell from her lips as she gave a loud scoff. 

Right, that's what she'd gotten herself into. 

Firing off a text, Clarke tossed her phone on her bed and marched to the bathroom to get ready to go to sleep.

After setting out food for her plump, grumpy roommate, she heard the chime of her phone right as she snuggled into her sheets. Picking it up, Clarke rolled her eyes once again at the illuminated contact and tapped back into the message. 

**_C.G. (9:21pm): You're not allowed to touch my phone again._ **

**_Send Nudes 💋😈 (9:44pm): oh good you're home_ **

**_C.G. (9:44pm): -_- Goodnight, Lexa_ **

**_Send Nudes 💋😈 (9:45pm): night gorgeous. sweet dreams..._ **

Slapping her phone on her bedside table with a thud, Clarke set her alarm and clicked off the light.

///////////////

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff, it's back to hell next chapter 😈😘


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My lover's got humor  
> She's the giggle at a funeral  
> Knows everybody's disapproval  
> I should've worshipped her sooner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING‼‼
> 
> ‼‼ READ THIS ‼‼
> 
> This will be the darkest chapter so far, and I am urging you to know your limits. 
> 
> There will be references and allusions to sexual assault. NOTHING will be explicitly depicted, however, even the language of the issue can be hard for some people, so I don't want anyone going into this blind or be caught off guard. 
> 
> Also TW, there WILL BE depictions of seizures, vomit, and violence. If those bother you, skip the middle entirely. You'll miss out on a few things but overall it shouldn't effect the story too much.
> 
> Take care of yourself first, it's just a fic. If you're here for the smut, just read the beginning and then skip to the last section. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta, commander-leksa and my first readers who help me make this thing actually make sense... and help me to not yeet myself into the void. 
> 
> Okay, enjoy 😈

**_Alexandria (7:03am): [Alexandria sent a photo]_ **

Pausing the lazy back and forth rock of her hand, Clarke let the toothbrush dangle from her lips as she glanced down at the lit up screen resting on the edge of her sink. 

Sighing with resigned acceptance at the increasingly familiar early morning chime of her phone, Clarke thoughtlessly moved to swipe open the message.

And promptly inhaled a mouthful of foam.

Clarke _knew_ giving Lexa access to her phone number had been a mistake. 

She had known it from the second lithe fingers had tapped away at her screen, without even the facade of asking permission. And yet still, somehow, she hadn't quite realized the inevitable trainwreck it would be.

Toothbrush falling from her lips with a clatter, Clarke felt her chest burn as she coughed through tears and scrambled to snatch up her phone. Slumping against the sink, Clarke pressed a hand over her forehead in a daze. 

Wild tumbling curls of chestnut practically glowed in a soft light that filtered through some unseen window in the background, Lexa's body perfectly framed in the image burning itself through Clarke's screen. A loose fitting midnight blue button up, draped off the sides of delicate shoulders, the richness of its color making creamy skin all the more vibrant. Swathes of collarbones and flexing tendons made Clarke's mouth water.

Long fingers rested demurely over the swell of Lexa's satin bound chest, the sheer swirling pattern of florals doing little to cover the pink of a straining nipple.

Clarke's eyes slid from alabaster skin and onyx lace to the rose colored set of lips that sat just inside the frame. Pouty and full, Clarke felt a throb of arousal at the memory of how they felt against her own.

A feeling she had very dutifully been refraining from partaking in since the… _interesting_ evening a week prior. 

Oscillating dots lit up after a few moments of short-circuited staring, Clarke straightening and sending furtive glances around herself despite being very much alone in her own bathroom. 

**_Alexandria (7:06am): oops_ **

**_Alexandria (7:06am): meant to send that to my priest_ **

Goddamn Lexa.

Shaking her head with a disgruntled garble of protest, Clarke swished and spit what little paste hadn't made its way to her lungs and promptly darkened her phone screen. 

All through her mornings for the last week-- the very long, _long_ week-- Clarke had barely contained the continuous roll of her eyes as her phone chirped and chimed with a trickling slew of incoming messages. General wishes of a good morning were fine, even the occasional flirty text over lunch she could handle.

But this was a bit much. 

Especially considering the sight that greeted her as she neared the entrance to the towering office building less than an hour later. 

"Of course," Clarke huffed.

"What?" 

Clarke pulled to a stop and glowered pointedly at the woman casually balancing a pink box and coffee cup in the palm of her hand.

Lexa smiled, running her fingers over the collar of the pristinely white shirt that peeked out from beneath her peacoat. "Do I have something on me?"

Grunting out an exasperated laugh, Clarke stepped around the woman and pulled the glass entrance door open. "I see you decided _against_ the blue then?" Clarke said rhetorically with a roll of her eyes. "You can't just send me half nudes in the morning, ya know."

"Like I said, mistaken text," Lexa sniffed as she slipped in behind her, easily matching Clarke's strides toward the bank of elevators. "Besides, you never answered. I figured either you were too busy _enjoying_ it, or you didn't like it, so I changed. And this one looks better with this skirt anyway."

Head whipping around to indignantly refute the former insinuation, against her will and better judgment, Clarke's chin dipped downward, eyes wandering over the soft looking skin on display. 

Legs stretched up from simple black heels, calves flexing as Lexa stepped onto the elevator beside her. The sinfully short skirt barely peeked out from under the length of the woman's camel colored coat, letting Clarke know this would be another long… long day.

"See? I thought you'd like this one better… Plus we both know you're an ass girl."

Clarke's eyes snapped up to that smirking face. _"Lexa."_

"What? I meant that in a 'friend' way."

Deciding it was still too early to argue the point, with a sigh and a tsk, Clarke rolled her eyes and straightened to stare resolutely forward as the metal doors slid closed. 

"Speaking of things I thought you'd like," Lexa picked back up before holding out the cup in her hand. "For you."

She eyed the cup warily. "For me?" 

Lexa gave Clarke a soft smile and nod. Tipping the cup from side to side in silent offering, Lexa kept holding the streaming drink out until Clarke hesitantly took it. 

"Two creams, no sugar, splash of hazelnut," Lexa said as Clarke sniffed at the little opening in the lid. "Right?"

"How in the world did you know that?" 

"I stalked you the last time you went out to buy coffee."

Clarke spluttered on her sip as Lexa smirked beside her.

"I'm kidding," Lexa said and leaned closer, bumping her shoulder against Clarke. "I asked Raven how you take it so I could pick it up on my way."

"... Why would you do that?"

Lexa simply quirked her brow, turning her head to shoot Clarke a weighted look. Off-kilter and unsure of exactly what to do with herself in such tight quarters, Clarke chewed her lip for a moment, grappling for some semblance of composure. 

"You really don't have to-"

"I think the words eluding you are, 'Thank you'," Lexa interrupted in a whisper as the door elevator dinged and opened, Clarke's breath hitching when lips brushed past her ear as Lexa stepped out. "And you're very welcome, gorgeous."

Clarke felt a blush warm her cheeks as she watched the woman swiftly walk ahead of her, only wrenching herself out of her stupor when the doors had started to close in her face. Her feet carried her in hurried steps to catch up as they wound through the maze of desks. 

"Right, sorry," she murmured when she drew even. "Thank you, Lexa."

"Truthfully, I don't understand how you drink that swill."

Guffawing in scandalized horror as they reached the pair of desks across the way, Clarke set her bag down and slung her jacket to hang over the back of her chair. "I beg your pardon? Is there something wrong with my coffee order?"

Lexa settled in beside her as Clarke took her seat, placing the box in her hand on Raven's empty desk before leaning a hip on the edge. "Not the order, although I do have thoughts on that. I'm saying I don't understand how you drink coffee at all."

"I drink it because it's amazing. Besides, I've seen you drink coffee, Raven brings you a cup every morning."

"No. It's always either tea or hot cocoa," Lexa said. "Raven and I's little secret."

"Oh my God. Cocoa? What are you? Four?" Clarke laughed with no real derision. 

"I have a sweet tooth," she said, flashing a pearly, goading smile. "And coffee smells toxic."

"It smells like heaven."

Letting out an indelicate snort, Lexa shook her head and leaned closer. "I can promise you that is not true."

"Oh?" Clarke hummed with a tick of her brow. "And what exactly does heaven smell like?"

Clarke knew as soon as the words left her lips that the question was a mistake. The sharp face looking down at her promptly split into a wide, wicked grin.

"It smells like my sweet, naked ass."

Every. Time. 

"Jesus Christ, Lexa," Clarke groaned, grabbing the nearest file from a stack on her desk and swatting the woman repeatedly in the arm. "Get away from me."

"Ow, why are you so violent," Lexa fought through a smile, twisting away from Clarke's weapon of choice before effectually wrestling it out of her hand. "And it was funny. I'm always funny."

Clarke let her face fall into a flat look of disdain. "Oh yeah. Cannibal jokes and speaking to me inappropriately on company time. Fantastic repertoire. You keep me in stitches."

"What are friends for?"

"Don't you have work? Go do work."

"I don't have any calls until-"

Clarke frowned as Lexa's mouth snapped shut, every trace of teasing laughter wiped from her face as playful eyes darkened, pools of opaque-chartreuse turning to hardened juniper-green. They focused on something over her shoulder, Clarke feeling a small lurch in her stomach as Lexa tensed for a moment before visibly forcing herself to relax. 

Twisting in her seat to see what could've caused such a reaction, Clarke's confusion only grew at the approaching familiar smile. 

"Morning, Clarke."

"... Hey, Luna," she slowly greeted, her words sounding more like a question to her ears.

She watched Luna's gaze dart up as she came to a stop. The knot in Clarke's stomach tightened further as the warmth of her smile flickered and died out, the bow of her lip twitching with the ghost of a sneer instead. 

A quiet beat passed before Luna looked back to Clarke, her face smoothing out into a bland show of pleasantness.

"I have that billing audit for the client you asked about last night," Luna said with her usual lazy cadence, slipping a small stack of papers into the inbox on the corner of Clarke's desk. "The fax number wasn't attached, so I had to kick it back. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Clarke assured, tugging at her collar as the air seemed to thicken. "Still saved me a trip to accounting."

"Good morning, Luna."

The friendly bend of a grin dropped from Luna's face as her eyes snapped back up at the drawled greeting that floated over Clarke's shoulder. "... Lexa."

"Ah ah, now. That's Alexandria to you, mutt."

 _"Lexa,"_ Clarke hissed in a horrified whisper, swiveling around to stare up at her with wide eyes.

"Of course, my mistake. Fuck off, _Alexandria,"_ Luna snapped as Clarke helplessly glanced back and forth between them. "Is that better?"

"What is happening?"

"So _edgy,_ Luna. Brava. And here I thought your owner had all of his little pets house-trained," Lexa tsked with an easy smile. "Speaking of which, how _is_ Luce doing these days?"

_Luce._

The single syllable dropped in Clarke's stomach like an acid-bound weight. A cold chill shot up the length of her spine at the memory of its arsenic-laced sound of contempt falling from plump lips, as she pictured the last time she'd heard that name.

_Luce._

Slowly turning in her seat, the fine hairs on Clarke's skin stood on end, hands shaking as she silently turned her eyes upward to the woman she had known for years. So often friendly and welcoming, Luna had been with the company since day one. They'd worked together, commiserated together, they'd even celebrated together for Christ's sake. 

And yet with just the turn of that name, Clarke felt as though she could barely recognize the person looking back, the soft plains of Luna's face suddenly looking jagged, hard, and sinister. 

"He's lovely," Luna bit back. "How's your Father doing? Oh, wait. He doesn't want to see you."

"Ooo, ouch. One more word, pooch, and I'll boop you on the nose with a newspaper."

Clarke's mouth hung slack as Luna's eyes blew wide and gold-laced amber flamed red. Luna's jaw twitched and ground, her fists curling as she silently seethed. Sweat dotted Clarke's brow as she swallowed down a roll of confusion and terror, finally clearing her throat to break the moment. 

"Th-thank you, Luna," she stammered. "Please go."

Luna blinked for a moment, fiery red cooling back to warm brown the moment the tension broke. With a flare of her nostrils, she took a deep breath and sent Clarke a tight lipped smile. "Welcome to reality, Clarke," Luna whispered in a growl. "You'd do well to mind the company you keep."

"Oh, Loon," Lexa called out after she'd started walking toward her own department, pasting a demure smile across her face when Luna furiously whipped back around. "Excuse me. _Luna._ Can you give your handler something for me?"

Much to Clarke's horror, she watched as Lexa moved to rifle through the inner pocket of her jacket… before pulling her hand back out and proudly displaying her middle finger next to her brilliantly lit smile.

 _"Lexa,"_ Clarke yelped yet again, reaching up in a quick movement to snatch the woman's hand down as Luna spun and stomped away.

Lexa merely shook with a low rumble of laughter, eye's dancing with delight as she looked down at the thunderous frown Clarke was giving her. 

Clarke unconsciously squeezed the hand still gripped between her own as her jumbled mind furiously worked to catch up with the last few minutes. "You can't- You're in the fucking office. _We're_ in the office."

"It's fine, no one saw."

"What the hell _was_ that?"

"A waste of time."

"No, I meant between you two," Clarke said, releasing Lexa only to anxiously wrap her arms around herself. "Her eyes- And she-... Lex."

Apparently seeing the beginnings of Clarke's internal spiral for exactly what it was, Lexa sobered enough to slip closer, fitting herself into the small area between Clarke's legs and her desk to hunch down into her space. "Calm down, gorgeous. I was just messing with her, it's not a big deal."

"I don't care about that. You're a dick to other people, I'm used to it by now. But I've known Luna for _years,"_ Clarke barreled on, her tone infused with as much dismissive annoyance as it was angered confusion. "We've worked together since before you got hired here. Before we even switched offices, and I never… The way she looked, I've never seen her like… What is happening? What was that?"

Lexa stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes gentle, if not pitying. Reaching a hand out, Lexa tucked back a few frizzled blonde curls. "I'm sorry, Clarke. I forget sometimes that you don't know about this stuff. That's my fault."

"Know about _what?_ I don't even know what that was."

"That was a demon," Lexa said with another apologetic sigh. "Or a hellhound. At least that's what I call them."

"... A _what?"_

"Hellhound. Not the made up ones humans came up with, though," she continued with an errant wave of her hand. "Those aren't real. Fun, but not real. I did think the name is pretty snappy though, so I stole it."

Clarke's frown deepened at the flippant chuckle.

Biting her lip and sending Clarke the ghost of a guilty smile, Lexa straightened and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "Luna is technically what you'd call a demon, but she's not like me, or the others who fell with me. She's one by choice. At some point in her life, she decided it'd be a brilliant idea to make a deal with my- with Lucifer, and traded him her soul in exchange for something."

Brows furrowing as she worked to take that all in, Clarke glanced back over her shoulder before frowning up at Lexa again. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I'd love to be."

"Luna's a _demon?"_

"In a sense, yes," Lexa said with a dip of her chin, her words as relaxed as though they were discussing nothing more than the weather. "But she has no power beyond what Lucifer gives her. She's bound to him, like the others are, but more so in that whatever agreement they made, her existence relies on him… Hence the whole 'mutt' and 'hellhound' thing," she added with a frown. "She's like Luce's demonic lapdog, wagging her tail whenever he calls her a good girl. All the hounds are like that, it's pathetic."

Clarke's eyes stretched wider at that.

 _"'All the hounds'?_ As in there's more? Like a lot more?"

"Of course," Lexa shrugged. "They're everywhere. Lucifer relies on them to be his hands on Earth. Even more than the others who fell with us… Like I said, he _really_ likes people he can control."

"... Jesus Christ."

"Eh, that guy doesn't really have much to do with it."

_"Lexa."_

"Right. Sorry."

"… Why did she do it?" Clarke whispered absently.

"Oh I have no idea. She's not a human anymore, so I can't read her," Lexa said. "Whatever it was though, I can't particularly say I get the trade off. I mean, she works in this dumpster fire of a company and barely earns above minimum wage. Imagine getting _this_ in exchange for your _eternal_ _soul…_ Fucking humans, I swear to God."

"Hey."

"I'm just saying," Lexa held up a defensive hand. "They're given life, and free will, and they decide to give it all over to that jackass. And for what? It's disgusting."

Clarke barely even took in the tirade happening beside her, her thoughts muddled and hazy as her eyes swept the length of the room.

But it was strange. The initial shock of the moment subsiding left Clarke feeling oddly empty. The overwhelming swell of fear that she'd anticipated never washing over her, instead a sinking sense of angered acceptance settling into the marrow of her bones. 

Because she supposed Luna had been right in a way. This was her new reality. As much as she fought it kicking and screaming, the truth was now that her eyes were open… she supposed there was very little she could do to ever hope for the blissful peace of ignorance again.

The soft touch of fingers slipping along her jaw pulled her back to the present, the touch gently pulling to tip her gaze upward. 

"Hey. You okay?"

Blinking up at Lexa's slightly worried frown, Clarke breathed a sigh and shrugged. "No. I mean... _yes,_ I am. I guess. What else is there to be?"

"It's okay to not be okay. This is a lot."

"... It's just… First you, now Luna… I don't even understand how she could tell I knew about," Clarke tried, flopping her hand Lexa's general detection, "all this."

"I'll take the blame for that," Lexa grimaced. "Probably didn't take her long to deduce why I'm so comfortable around you… Not to mention she _really_ doesn't like me. Which is fair."

"Is there anything more here I should know about? A ghoul in marketing? Fucking dementors in HR? I mean my God. Where in the hell did I get hired?"

Lexa burst into quiet laughter, soft seas of green twinkling down at her as she gazed at Clarke with naked affection.

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing _at_ you, Clarke... I think you're adorable. I adore the way your mind works."

"None of this is in any way adorable," Clarke grumped, slumping down in her chair as she stared out across the office floor at the early morning workers milling around them. "Every time I think I have this figured it, or at least think I'm starting to wrap my head around it, something new comes along and fucks everything up."

A moment of silence passed between them, Clarke's fingers worrying at the seam of her skirt. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't notice as Lexa shuffled further into Clarke's space before reaching down and pulling her out of the anxious habit.

Trailing her eyes upward, Clarke didn't think to fight as Lexa gathered her hands and brought them to rest against her thighs. 

She breathed in the calming scent of spiced perfume, the small knot in her chest uncoiling just enough for her lungs to expand and relax. Clarke refused to think of how those touches, those small tokens of intimacies, had become something so different, so quickly. Where not a month ago, the idea of those hands offering even seedlings of comfort seemed laughable, Clarke only returned the gesture in a thankful squeeze of her own.

"Listen to me, gorgeous," Lexa said, her voice nothing but velvet and starlight. "You're not stupid for feeling overwhelmed."

Clarke frowned at that. "I didn't say-"

"You didn't have to," Lexa softly cut in, rubbing gentle circles over the backs of Clarke's knuckles. "To be honest, that's part of what I adore about your face. It shows everything you're feeling, and you feel so much, all of the time… And just now you had on your 'Sad Clarke' face. Which is cute, but unfortunately is not _nearly_ as sexy as 'Mad Clarke' face."

"Shut up," Clarke grumbled, fighting the twitch at the edge of her lips.

"Aw. There's my sunshine girl."

"You two certainly look cozy."

Head snapping around, Clarke gracefully yanked her hands back into her own lap before scooting her chair several inches back from where she had been crowded around the woman lazing against her desk. 

"Morning, Raven," Lexa said as pleasantly as ever, easily stepping out from between Clarke's legs and gathering her bag from beside her.

"Morning, boss… And good morning to you too, Clarke."

Clarke's face burned at the smirk painted across the devilish looking face, thoroughly convinced that nothing about Raven's pointedly salacious tone was called for in that moment. 

"Shit, I have to run," Lexa breathed, pulling the sleeve of her coat back to look at the flash of her watch. "I have a phone meeting with Charles in ten minutes... Gives me just enough time to find a doorway to slam my head in."

Raven frowned as she hung her coat over the back of her chair. "Why do you have a phone meeting with Pike?"

"I don't know. Hopefully to explain why his ass hasn't been in the office for the past week?" Lexa said with an annoyed smile. "If I get one more asinine memo from one of his interns, I swear to Father above, I'm going to color code it, laminate it, and then shove it right up their-"

"Wait," Clarke piped in. "Pike hasn't been in the office for a week?"

"He's been gone for _over_ a week, gorgeous. How have you not noticed?"

"Well I don't know," she replied defensively. "He never talks to me in person, he just emails me everything."

"Why doesn't that surprise me. Always an ass," Lexa muttered, hefting her purse further up her shoulder. "Anyway, I'll let you know what's going on after the call… Or maybe I'll just text you about it."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa's danger laced leer, shaking her head slowly before pointing a lazy finger toward the woman's office. "Go do work, Lexa."

"Okay, okay. Can we be friends who kiss before I go?"

"Goodbye, Lexa."

"Listen, makeout with me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember us agreeing to being friends who kiss."

Ignoring the blush climbing of the apples of her cheeks, Clarke thrust her finger more pointedly toward the office door across the way. _"Goodbye, Lexa."_

"You break my heart, Clarke." Lips tipping into a devastating smirk, Lexa sent a final wag of her fingers in farewell before turning to walk in long strides through the office.

Shaking her head with a sigh, Clarke watched the swing of Lexa's hips before they disappeared behind the large door bearing her name. The shape of that smirk lingered in Clarke's mind, an unconscious warmth curling low in her belly as she swiveled back around toward her work.

Slowly turning her head, Clarke let her gaze properly settle on her desk mate, the small smile that pulled at her lips falling sharply into a frown at the delighted face staring back. 

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything." 

Chin resting on the bridge of her interlaced fingers, Raven leaned further on her elbows, eyes bright and lips stretched into a deeply pleased smile. Sending her best attempt at a scathing glare, Clarke straightened in her seat and moved to sign in to her computer. 

She mentally counted down the seconds to the inevitable.

And truthfully, Clarke had to give it to Raven. Eight full seconds was longer than she would've been willing to bet on. 

She thought that showed growth.

"Soooo," Raven started with a nonchalant hum, head wobbling from side to side where it remained perched on her knuckles. "... Friends who kiss, huh?"

"Raven."

"Yes, Clarke?"

"I'm not doing this."

"Doing what?" Raven asked entirely too innocently. 

Clarke could only muster the energy to shoot her an annoyed frown.

"I'm just saying," Raven shrugged, shifting to log in to her own computer instead. "It's cute. Shocking and somewhat nauseating to witness in real time. But cute."

"Oh, Jesus, not you too."

"Oh calm down, ya damn grinch," Raven dismissed, taking a moment to flip open the box sitting on her desk and pulling out a cupcake. With a quirk of her brow, Raven slid the box over to Clarke's desk before turning back to her own. "I'm telling you I'm _glad_ you two figured some of your shit out. It's not exactly been hard to notice that you've seemed to be getting along quite well this past week. And I, for one, think it's great."

Flashes of the woman in question rolled through her mind as Clarke gingerly lifted the red and white confection from its holder, the memory of the week filled with small touches and easy smiles making her body feel lightheaded and warm. Gaze darting to the closed door across the way, the tiny ghost of a grin spread unbidden across Clarke's face.

"Well. 'Getting along' is certainly a bit of an overstatement. But I may have realized that she's… not entirely terrible," Clarke muttered and took a small bite even as she rolled her eyes at herself. "When she doesn't want to be at least… She's actually kind of funny sometimes. When she's not driving me up the wall or being so inappropriate I want to duct tape her mouth shut."

Raven tilted her head to the side as she continued tapping away at her computer.

"So… what I'm hearing is... there's a U-Haul rental in your near future."

Scoffing through a horrified laugh, Clarke threw an unseen glare at the closed office door, regretting every single decision of her life entirely. 

  
  


/////////////////

A little more than an hour later, Clarke realized she should've reveled in the calm that was her morning.

Sighing for the fourth time since discretely answering her cell phone, Clarke let her forehead drop into the cradle of her palm.

"I know, mom."

"Dude, hang up on her."

Shooting an exasperated look at her desk mate, she simply shook her head and focused back on the call.

_"-- Three months, Clarke. Three. This was not the agreement."_

"I know, mom," Clarke said again, struggling to keep any snap out of her voice. "But like I said before, I can't help my schedule."

 _"You said that last time,"_ Abby huffed over the line, Clarke mentally able to see the lines of disappointment etched around the tight string of her mouth. _"And the time before that."_

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Give me the phone," Raven whispered from where she'd scooted closer. "I'll tell her what I want her to do."

Hurrying to cover the mic, Clarke yanked backward out of Raven's grabby hands. "Stop it."

"Give me the phone."

"Stop it, you're just gonna make this worse."

"I'm not gonna make it worse," Raven assured with another whisper. "I'm just going to verbally slap her around a little bit."

_"Clarke!"_

"Mom, I-"

 _"I'm getting to the end of my rope with you, Clarke,"_ Abby said, the sharp edge to words slicing through Clarke in a cold chill. _"This is what you were warned about when you wanted to move out there. Living who knows what--."_

Clarke felt the frustrated sting of tears prickle at the edges of her vision as Abby cut off with a sigh, her chest rising and falling in labored breaths at the familiar feeling of helplessness creeping up on her.

_"You say you're not backsliding, but I can't even get you to come to something so important to me… After everything I've done for you. To help you, Clarke… I knew I shouldn't have let you move there."_

"I moved here because I had to," Clarke ground out wet and angry. "I couldn't-- I had to for my job. I mean, I don't know what… I'm not a child, you have got to stop this."

"Dude, seriously give me the phone," Raven insisted more vehemently.

"I want to be close to you, Mom, but you make it-"

The banging sound of wood on plaster startled Clarke enough to jump in her seat, her head whipping around in tandem with everyone else to stare at the commotion. Her eyes landed on a steely faced Lexa standing framed in the door to her office. 

"I need everyone's attention. Now!" Lexa needlessly called out across the silent floor, all eyes already watching her as she took a measured step forward. 

_"Clarke-"_

"Mom, I gotta go," Clarke rushed into her phone. "My boss just walked in."

_"I expect you-"_

"Next weekend, I know, I promise I'll be there no matter what. I love you, goodbye."

Swiftly ending the call, Clarke focused back across the room, her frown deepening as she took in Lexa's rigid stance. Dark eyes scanned the floor in a slow sweep as she squared her shoulders, the air about her regal and strong as Lexa clasped her hands behind her back. 

Clarke felt a shiver run through her spine and heat pool low in her belly at the sight of her, the image commanding, and powerful, and intoxicating. 

"I have just spoken with Mr. Pike," Lexa boomed out, her words crisp and authoritative. "It seems that he is going to be dealing with a personal issue for the foreseeable future, and as such, I will be taking over his position in the office."

A smattering of murmurs broke out as people frowned and turned to whisper to each other, Clarke almost smiling as she watched Lexa allow them a moment with only the tiniest roll of her eyes.

"That being said," she continued, drowning out the hum of their chatter. "I am going to be changing a few things around here."

"Like what?"

Lexa's eyes flicked in the direction of the shouted question.

"I will be sending everyone the full details in an email. One that I expect you all to read. _Immediately,"_ she said pointedly. "But suffice it to say, I'm ending the amount of time and energy we waste here. For too long we have not utilized our growing numbers, expecting a few to do the work of many, while others sit idly by."

"What is she doing?" Clarke felt more than heard murmured behind her.

"Like I have any idea. It's Lexa. When the hell do any of us ever actually know what she's doing."

Clarke bit back a grin at Raven's answering snort.

"Furthermore, to better cover the recent influx of clients, I'm going to be shuffling a few people between departments to help even out the workload."

"Who's switching?"

"What about my clients?"

"What about our pay?"

"What if we don't want to?"

Lexa's face tightened as she turned to fully face that particular question. 

"If you don't agree with my management style, Finn, then you are more than welcome to quit," Lexa said, lifting a brow as she regarded him with barely contained disdain.

"That's not what I meant," Finn hurriedly corrected, shooting upward from his chair only to slightly stumble on his feet. "That's not- I meant… I was just-"

"Are you alright, Mr. Collins?" Lexa asked, her head tilting with the question as her eyes sharpened and narrowed. 

"Yeah," he panted, his sentence slowing and slurring with each passing word as he moved to brace himself on his desk. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just…"

An eerie beat of silence settled over the room, before all hell broke loose.

With a pained grunt, Finn lurched and doubled over with a retch, the full contents of his stomach emptying in a splat into the waste bin beside him. Surprised shouts filled the office as everyone exploded in a flurry of movement, the cacophony of alarmed voices barely drowning out the sound of his violent heaving. 

Clarke shot up in horror as Finn stumbled and then slumped, his body crumpling with a sickening thud as people jumped out of the way. Legs moving without thought, Clarke took off across the office, shoving past her shell-shocked coworkers who'd huddled in around him. 

She pulled to a stop at the sight of him. Her stomach churned at the sight of sick slipping past clenched teeth, only the whites of his eyes showing as his body limply convulsed. Dropping to her knees, her hands shook as she helplessly held them over him, her mind blank of anything she could possibly think do.

And then time seemed suspend itself, the roar of her coworkers fading to a gentle hum as a strange pull clouded her senses, a terrible sort of dread overcoming her when she slowly turned her head.

Through the gap of shaken employees her eyes found her, the previously commanding and powerful woman looking nothing more than annoyed and inconvenienced. Clarke watched as Lexa shook her head and lifted herself from the doorway of her office, lazily moving through the crowded floor of workers as they parted without her even needing to utter a word, no one paying her a moment's attention at all.

Lexa came to a stop beside the splayed body on the floor, Clarke's eyes frozen on the shifting face staring down at him. 

The arch of cheekbones flared as cheeks shrunk and hollowed, the jawline Clarke had been admiring only an hour before sharpening to a deathly razor's edge. Green exploded into wide, cesspools of black as pillowed lips dropped open to reveal a glinting row of blade-like teeth. 

The effect was so much more unsettling than Clarke remembered. 

A bubble of silence settled around them as Clarke looked on, people milling and staring without seeing as Lexa lowered to her heels beside her.

"Of course you'd have to do this here," Clarke heard her whisper, the smokey embers of Lexa's voice the only sound sifting through the air. "You really have to make life difficult for every woman you meet, don't you?"

The ripple of a growled sneer flowed from deep within her chest as Lexa smiled and tipped her head forward.

"But my, my. Look at you now, Mr. Collins…" Lexa quietly continued, her tone lifting to a rich, mocking softness as she caressed a knuckle over the dip of Finn's temple. "It's scary, isn't it? Feeling this way?"

"Lexa," Clarke breathed through the tremor of her voice.

Ignoring her entirely, Lexa leaned closer to hover over him. Black eyes staring into unseeing brown that looked up to nothing, the empty orbs of Finn's blown and unfocused haze as he laid broken on the floor. 

And then with a swift strike, a loud snap cracked through the air as Lexa pulled back and violently slapped him across the face. 

Clarke jumped and fell backward, landing heavily on her backside as a yell died on her tongue. Her ribs ached and throat burned with each hammering knock of her heart, looking on in stupefied horror as Finn's head jerked to the side and lulled grotesquely from the blow.

She felt frozen under the empty depths of hollow brown. 

Lexa drew her hand back to let it dangle over the curve of her knee, a quiet sigh escaping her as she gave a final look over the length of him, before pushing back up to her feet. Smoothing her hands down the front of her blouse, Lexa took a moment to adjust herself, running her fingers through wild curls to muss them fuller before slipping them into the pockets of her skirt.

"Goodbye, Finn."

Without sparing either of them another glance, Lexa turned back toward her office, slipping out through the crowd as easily as she'd slipped in. 

At the quiet click of Lexa door, it was as though life had sprung back into motion around her, the crashing sound of voices and metal shocking Clarke out of her reverie. Blinking at the feel of hands on her shoulders, her eyes flew up to take in the worried face of Raven stooped over her. 

"What?"

"Clarke, you gotta give them space."

"What?" she breathlessly asked again, mind racing and blank all at once.

"The ambulance is here, babe. You gotta move."

Clarke didn't fight as hands hooked under her arms and tugged, her legs wobbly and fighting to hold her weight as she let herself be helped up. 

The room churned in a haze around her, as though she were watching some perverse play unravel on stage, Clarke's body numb to everything as she watched the faceless, nameless, men work. Their movements looked mechanical, reflexive and well-rehearsed, from the opening act of recording Finn's vitals to the denouement of exchanging furtive, solemn nods.

She wondered if it meant something that their steps lacked any sort of urgency as they loaded the gurney to take Finn away.

The metal doors of the elevator slid closed as the office bustled with nerve-frayed energy, people milling around in clusters and huddled groups as they discussed what they'd just seen. 

Clarke sat in a daze at her desk, eyes staring at the unfinished document she'd been working before… well, everything. She stayed silent through the cacophony of her coworkers frazzled gossiping, hearing snippets of vague theories on poor Finn's fate and ignoring each one entirely. She ignored the call of their new boss's voice calmly telling everyone to go home for the day, she ignored the sympathetic sounds of words meant to comfort the unnerved department. 

She ignored the lingering looks from the corner of wary eyes as coworkers gathered their things from their desks and slowly trudged past on their way home. 

"C'mon, babe, walk me out."

Clarke finally glanced up at Raven's voice, shaking the fog that had settled over her senses enough to shoot her a vague attempt at a smile. "Actually, I'm gonna take another minute, if that's okay."

Raven frowned at that, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "I really don't like the idea of you staying here alone after that. And then with your mom-"

"I'm fine," Clarke cut in, hitching a much convincing smile on her face. "She's not even- I'm fine."

"Yyyyeah you say that a lot, even when you're not."

"I am though. I'm actually gonna go, um, speak to Lexa."

She rolled her eyes at the immediate stretch of a Cheshire grin. 

_"Oooh."_

"Not like that, you pervert," Clarke scoffed, blindly grabbing a few papers within reach and standing from her seat. 

"Uh huh," Raven hummed with an exaggerated wink as she started walking backward toward the elevator. "Whatever you say."

"She's technically my boss now, Raven."

"Mhm, mhm," she nodded and stepped in. "Well at least I know I'm leaving you in _good hands."_

"Goodnight, Raven."

Raven laughed out loud at her disdain-soaked dismissal. "Get home safe, dude… And enjoy your late night meeting, _Ms. Griffin."_

The deep, lusty sound of her voice cut off as the elevators slid shut. Smile falling as fast as she was out of sight, Clarke threw the papers back down on her desk and took off across the floor.

///////////

"What the fuck was that?"

Lexa glanced up from where she'd been scribbling in a leather-bound notebook, her serene expression infuriatingly relaying no hint of surprise at the crashing sound of Clarke's entrance. 

Sniffing a quick breath as Clarke slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the hinges, Lexa slipped the glasses from her nose and tossed them on her desk. She took a moment to lace her fingers together over the forgotten pages of her work and shot Clarke an easy grin.

"Specifically," Lexa said in a pleasant, yet bored tone, "that was an aneurysm."

Clarke stopped short in the middle of the office.

"Well," Lexa continued, "originally it was a brain bleed. Several, in fact. First, it was slow to raise the pressure inside of his skull, but then something apparently went… _boom…_ That can sometimes happen. It can be really quite nasty to witness."

"Godammit, Lexa-"

"In the brain," Lexa sighed and pushed up from her chair to lazily wind around her desk, "there are two main blood supplies."

"I know what an aneurysm is," Clarke bit back.

"You asked a question, Clarke. Do you want me to answer it, or not?"

Clarke locked her jaw and strangled back a frustrated sound, straightening as Lexa stopped so close she could feel the warmth of her breath. 

"There's the vertebral arteries," Lexa continued at Clarke's silence, hands reaching out to cup the back of Clarke's head in a feather light touch, her fingers dipping down to massage at the notches winding up from the base of Clarke's neck. "They carry blood from the spine to the brain stem. All pretty self-explanatory, I think."

A shudder rocked through Clarke at the touch, her breath picking up when Lexa slipped her fingers around to the front slope of her throat. Palms pressed over the jut of Clarke's collarbones as the tips of lithe fingers tapped against the thrum of her pulse.

"But these?" Lexa shook her head with a bright-eyed grin. _"These_ are special. These lead to everything that makes you who you are." 

Her stomach twisted as the feather light touch of one hand slid up and over her jaw, a single knuckle caressing at the dip of Clarke's temple. 

"It's such a delicate design," Lexa mumbled absently. "Intricate. Thousands of little vessels, connecting and working together to keep the body going... It's all so vulnerable. So easily damaged… And then everything just, falls apart."

"You're scaring me, Lexa," Clarke breathed, her heart hammering through her chest so loudly she could barely hear her own voice.

The fog cleared from green eyes as Lexa frowned and dropped her hands, the husk of her voice laced with hurt. "Clarke…"

"I just watched my coworker die," Clarke choked, feeling a strange need to explain herself under such a pained look despite her internal flailing. "And I'm assuming it's because of you."

"He's not dead," Lexa dismissed with a roll of her eyes. "And even if he was, I feel like you should know by now I would never hurt _you._ I mean my God, Clarke. I won't even coerce you into sleeping with me, you really think I'm going to do something to harm you?"

"I don't _know,_ but you need to start explaining right now before I lose my shit in the middle of this office."

Lexa grit her jaw with enough force Clarke could hear her teeth squeak. Eyes closing and muscles bunching, Lexa visibly pulled back a bite of anger. Lifting her chin upward, she released a slow breath and seemed to uncoil into a much looser stance.

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but fine… Tell me, Clarke," Lexa said after a long beat of silence. Clarke watched cool grey eyes flutter back open and stare emptily. "Finn has worked here, what? A few months? Three, I believe."

"I think," Clarke stammered with irritation. "I don't know, I haven't been keeping a fucking calendar, Lexa."

"And what's the one thing you've noticed about him? The one thing that never fails?"

"I don't _know."_

"When he asks you to dinner. When he tells you he plans to _'pay you back'_ , or that he 'owes you'. When he says he's going to take you out. What do you always say?"

"No-"

"And what's the one answer that he never seems to understand no matter how many goddamn times you say it?"

Clarke's mouth clicked shut at the snap of Lexa's question. Her gut rolled with a sinking feeling, a prickling sense of foreboding lapping the corners of her mind as her ribs tightened at the words. 

She watched Lexa uncurl her fists and sigh.

"Why do you think I hired him?" Lexa continued much more calmly. "He's an idiot, and he's terrible at his job. Which, yes, I usually appreciate those qualities around here. But at least tell me you've noticed the fact that I can't stand that man."

"You can't stand most people. What exactly is your point?"

 _"My point_ is that from the second he flashed that fake little smile in my face, he's had one foot already out the door."

Clarke's frown only deepened. "What could he have possibly done to deserve what I just saw?"

Lexa turned and strode back around her desk, her arms swinging out in a show of annoyance before falling back to her sides with a slap.

"I don't know how many times I have to explain this to you, but I don't just kill for fun… Well, I mean, yes, I do," Lexa huffed with a roll of her eyes. "It _is_ fun. But regardless, they always deserve it. That's _why_ it's fun."

"So he's a creep-"

"Clarke," Lexa cut in, her voice stilted with barely contained exasperation. "Listen to what I'm saying to you… He doesn't take no for an answer. He never has."

Clarke stood frozen under the weighted fire of Lexa's darkening, verdant gaze. 

"As special as you are, you, unfortunately, were _not_ special when it came to how he treated you… He doesn't understand 'no'. Okay?" Lexa pressed her tinge with barely concealed rage as it rang through the silent office. "Not when a girl says no to a date. Or tells him 'no, thank you' when he asks her to dance. He doesn't take no when he offers them drinks, or turns down the chance when they turn their back on him with theirs… Not when they say no to a kiss. Or a touch. Or when they beg him to stop-"

"Stop," Clarke choked out in a whisper, her throat achingly tight. 

"But that's why I took care of it," Lexa said with fiery intensity as she pressed a hand to her chest, the strange smile pulling at her lips making her look all the more sinister. "Do you get it now? I can't make right what he did, but this? Clarke," Lexa wistfully sighed. "Now his entire world is, 'No'."

Pushing up from her stooped position, Lexa gave a soft chuckle and shook her head. 

"The poetic justice of it, really. I honestly couldn't have planned it better myself... I mean, I fully intended on just giving him an excruciating and slow death, but this is so much more... _delicious,"_ she said with a raised brow. "Now _he_ can feel what they felt. The confusion, and the terror of being trapped inside his own body... Powerless. Hopeless. Like the caged animal he is."

"Lexa," Clarke breathed, hands and legs trembling so violently she felt she might fall over. "... What the hell is wrong with you?"

At that, coal blackened eyes snapped to her, Lexa's face folding into a look of hurt and confusion.

"Me? 'What's wrong with me'? Have you listened to a word I just said?"

"Lexa. It- it's one thing to… to give justice. But this is- You're enjoying this."

"Yes, Clarke, I am," Lexa agreed pointedly. "I just took a monster out of commission. All things considered, I think I deserve a standing ovation."

"You made me an accessory to _murder,"_ Clarke stressed. "I gave him aspirin when he had a brain bleed for God's sake."

Lexa tsked and rolled her obsidian eyes. _"'Accessory to murder'._ Now who's being dramatic? And again, he's not dead."

"That's not the fucking point."

"You have no point," she snapped, "because you weren't an accessory to anything. You had no idea, you just thought you were helping him. I mean, Jesus, Clarke, _I_ didn't even know that was going to happen. That wasn't part of some masterful plan here, it was just a coincidence."

Lexa was quiet for a moment before her lips curled into a haunting smirk. 

"Truth be told, though? I do kind of love the karma of it all... I mean, the irony of him becoming incapacitated because someone gave him a pill he didn't realize would fuck him up? Of _all_ the ways this could've played out, tell me that's not the most poetic?"

Clarke blinked with owlish eyes as Lexa looked at her expectantly. 

"... Christ… What was I thinking?" 

Clarke turned to pace in slow steps across the floor of the office, hands digging into her biceps as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. 

"What do you mean, 'what were you thinking'?"

"I mean what the hell was I thinking?" she repeated hollowly. "How did I ever even entertain that I could be friends with you. You're a psychopath."

"Okay, well, that's rude."

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"You really should just calm down, gorgeous."

"Don't fucking 'gorgeous' me right now," Clarke snipped as she rounded on the woman. "You just practically murdered someone in front of the entire office."

"I kill a lot of people, _Clarke,"_ Lexa bit back with renewed frustration. "We've been over this. And to be perfectly honest, I'm getting _tired_ of going over it with you."

Clarke stared slack jawed before huffing out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, you're getting _tired_ of it. She's _tired_ of it! Well. I'm _so_ _sorry_ for that."

"You should be, because that little shit deserved it. Even if I wasn't going to kill him before, after that day in the breakroom he's lucky I didn't snap his fucking neck on the spot."

That… ground Clarke to a halt. 

It felt like a bucket of ice had been tipped over her skull, her body rigid with the cool trickle of creeping horror as a lead weight settled in the pit of her gut. 

"... What?"

Lexa scoffed, glaring at her with sharp eyes. "You really think I didn't feel every vile thing radiating off of him while he wouldn't even give space to breathe? _Wake up,_ Clarke... I read him the second I watched him get close to you. He had you boxed in, in an empty room, cornered, and refusing to let you leave. What the hell else do you think I would do? That _he_ wanted to do?"

"What are you saying, Lexa?"

Lexa flung her arms out again in a wild show of frustration. "Exactly what you think I'm saying."

"He-... He wanted to…" Clarke couldn't bring herself to even finish the sentence, the thought alone leaving her feeling hollow and sick. Her stomach churned as she remembered his every laugh and every smile, skin prickling at the memory of his every unwelcomed, lingering touch.

"This is why I didn't want you t-... Listen. His intentions were moot from day one," Lexa ground out in a halting burst through the locked cage of her jaw. "I knew who he was, and I _never_ would've let him hurt you."

Clarke stared at the face that refused to look back, her mind sluggishly working to catch up with the implications of the last few moments. 

"... You protected me," she whispered, the realization falling from her lips sounding more like a question than anything.

The tips of Lexa's ears spiked red as she grunted and shook her head.

"I took out a threat, Clarke. That's what I do with people like Finn. That's why I kept him so busy... When I found out the little snake had wriggled his way into a night out with a group of you all, I made sure his schedule was too full to ever let that happen again. Because, yes, it was hilarious watching him slowly dying without even knowing it, but I _never_ put anyone in danger just for my own vengeance."

Lifting her chin defiantly, Clarke pushed further. "But you specifically kept him away from me. Even here, you were there every time. But not everyone else. Why?"

Lexa looked up with thunderous eyes, her jaw clenching as she braced herself on curled fists against the desk between them. Clarke watched her body nearly vibrate with emotion, the temperature in the room spiking to a point it felt almost hard to breathe. 

"You know why," Lexa simmered in a guttural whisper. 

The sentence hung heavy in Clarke's ears. 

"I would've broken his fucking hands if he'd ever touched you in front of me. So, yes, _Clarke,_ I specifically kept him away from you. And that's not something I'm going to apologize for."

The long stretch of silence that settled in the air was thick, a current of sparking energy crackling like a live wire between them. Holding the fiery embers staring back, Clarke's limbs hung weightless as she felt the moments pass in the staccato of pounding heartbeats and poorly measured breaths. 

Clarke's heels thumped in muffled thuds against the thin carpet of Lexa's office, her steps slow, but purposeful and sure. 

Because she knew. 

Clarke _knew_ with perfect clarity the hellfire she was choosing over salvation. But she welcomed the mantle of inevitable damnation rather than deny herself the warmth of its flames.

Her eyes greedily soaked up the vision of Lexa rearing up from her desk as Clarke approached, strong shoulders locking and spine straightening as though preparing for an attack. She didn't flinch as Clarke reached for her, fingers delicately tracing the severe cut of Lexa's jaw. Clarke felt the muscles tense under her touch as she moved to lace her hands in messy chestnut curls.

Rising up on her tiptoes, Clarke nearly smiled at the flash of confused fear that tore across that beautiful face before stepping into the fire entirely. 

A hot rush of air whistled against her skin as Lexa exhaled a breath, hands rising to Clarke's waist as she pressed into bee-stung lips. 

And she had meant it to be gentle; to be soft and kind and supplicating. She'd meant it to be a 'thank you' she couldn't begin to know how to pronounce. But at first taste, Clarke knew all bets were off. 

Clarke's lips grew hungrier with every press, the feel of fingers squeezing at her ribcage acting like reigns spurring her onward. Licking at the seam of Lexa's mouth, she didn't care to hold in a groan as Lexa opened for her, the silk of her mouth so inviting. 

She wondered how she'd denied herself this feeling for the past week, denied herself the rapture of this hell-worthy want, an urgency coloring her movements as she succumbed to the flavor of its sin. 

It felt so natural to push Lexa backward with eager hands and hips, crowding her and coaxing her to rest against the ledge of her desk. Her hands flew to the hem of Lexa's tight fitting skirt, Clarke thanking a deity who surely was no longer listening for allowing her just enough space to ruck it up. Lexa gasped as Clarke nudged a knee between newly freed legs, her own hands moving to yank her skirt further out of the way to bunch around the thick of her thighs. 

"Clarke," Lexa moaned, her breath hot on Clarke's lips between seeking kisses.

"I know, Lex," Clarke soothed as she pushed forward, relishing in the slip of wet lace on her skin. "I know… I just really wanna feel you come."

The whimper that bloomed from high in Lexa's throat ignited a desperation in Clarke; a visceral _need_ to hear the heady sounds of Lexa's pleasure roaring through her entire being. 

Sinking her fingers deeper into the fleshy give of Lexa's hips hard enough to mark her with her own gorgeous reminders for later, Clarke took control of Lexa's movements, hands guiding her into a more focused rhythm. 

Lexa moaned out obscene fractions of nonsense as she rode Clarke's thigh, her hands falling away to help prop herself up on the desk behind her. 

"That's it, Lex," Clarke cooed at the change of angle, the bow of Lexa's back allowing more room for Clarke's thrusts. "Fuck, you're close already, aren't you?"

"Oh, God. Right there," Lexa panted on the heels of a rough roll of her clit, her voice breathy, and delirious, and beautiful. 

Lexa ground down with each roll of Clarke's hips, he head lolling back as she sent groaned exaltations toward the sky. 

"Right there, oh. _Oh…_ " she moaned with a lost sounding whimper.

Clarke rocked into her through the choppy pistoning of Lexa's grind, instinctively matching the urgency of her pace. Her eyes dragged over the exquisite mess of a woman as she watched Lexa chase the swell of her orgasm. 

Slipping her hand beneath the fabric of Lexa's bunched up skirt, Clarke tugged aside the flimsy lace of her underwear to give way for the feeling skin on skin. With a strangled groan, Lexa's body locked up, her every muscle and sinew pulling taut. 

Draping herself over the bow of Lexa's front, Clarke stroked her through the tremors, through the quaking shivers of her pleasures, sucking open-mouth kisses to every inch of skin within reach. To her collarbones and her cleavage, to the sweat dusted column of her throat as Lexa's hips rolled in shaky jerks with every tongue-laden act of worship. 

Hands tangled in Clarke's hair, grabbing with limp fists to pull her up and into the sloppy press of a kiss. All teeth and tongue, Clarke pulled Lexa closer as she slowed the pace of her thrusting. Her skin burned as Lexa twitched in the aftershocks of her ecstacy, Clarke's stomach tightening at the slippery feeling of come _dripping_ onto her thigh. 

Wrenching away to gulp much needed air, Clarke held the slumped woman up as Lexa dropped her head to rest on Clarke's shoulder. 

"Clarke…I can't even..."

"Good?"

Lexa vibrated with a joyous chuckle, a shiver running down Clarke's spine as plump lips moved to nibble at her ear. 

"Amazing," she breathed. "Tell me what I did to deserve that, so I can make sure to do it again."

Clarke snorted a laugh, running her hands in wide circles over the ridges of Lexa's back. "I just needed to do that," she whispered, choosing to keep the truth of her impulse to herself. "You're the one who said I should start letting myself have what I want."

"Fuck, Clarke. You're so..." Lexa trailed off, shaking her head as she finally pulled back to rove jade-shaded galaxies over the expanse of Clarke's face. "... I really like seeing you this free."

Cheeks flaring as she nodded in agreement to nothing and everything at once, to unspoken words that floated just beneath the surface of their tentative connection, Clarke captured Lexa's lips in a bruising kiss before pulling away entirely. 

Pushing sweat dampened hair from her face, she made it about four steps before hearing a low warning growl.

"Oh no you don't."

Clarke whirled around at a sharp tug, fingers having wrapped around her wrist, yanking enough to spin her. Lexa pivoted and pinned Clarke against the edge of her desk, mouth latching onto the pulse beating in Clarke's neck as the tinkling sound of metal rose to her ears. Her hips pulled as Lexa deftly undid the buckle of her belt before whipping it out of the loops of Clarke's skirt and tossing it aside.

"Nnng, wait," Clarke mumbled, grabbing Lexa's hands as they'd begun to work on the zipper.

Lexa immediately let go, chest heaving as she stared back with dark eyes and took a moment to calm herself before speaking. 

"... If you truly want me to stop, I will. But understand. You fucking me, _again,_ and then not letting me touch you? Would be incredibly unfair."

Clarke couldn't help a breath of laughter, releasing her hold on Lexa's hands as she shook her head. "Unfair? Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," Lexa whispered with heavy intent, hands coming to rest on the desk and caging Clarke in. 

Clarke leaned back and swallowed as Lexa loomed over her, watching the sharp jaw twitch with roiling emotion. The heady scent of Lexa's perfume bathed over her, and Clarke shuddered as a firm thigh pressed against her core.

"You've been inside me," Lexa husked, hips picking up an achingly slow rock. "Felt me break apart against you. Watched me come for you… You've gotten to have all the fun so far, gorgeous... Let me play too."

"Lexa," Clarke soothed, her voice barely a whisper as she pressed a hand to Lexa's chest before sliding up, her fingers ghosting over collar bones until they reached wayward curls. "Do I look like I want to play right now?"

That dark twist in her belly sprang to life at feeling the hips rolling against her shudder to a stop. Lexa harshly swallowed, hooded eyes roaming over Clarke's face, a thrill sparking in darkened forests with a silent question. 

Clarke gave a small smile at the tiny shake of Lexa's head. 

"I didn't think so." Letting her hand slip further up the porcelain skin of Lexa's neck, Clarke laced her fingers in the wild shock of chestnut and soothingly scratched. "Would you like to know what I do want to do?"

Lexa continued to stare at Clarke's lips as she nodded.

"I want you to take me back to your house." Clarke murmured the words as she pulled Lexa closer, punctuating her words with each soft press of their lips. 

"And I want you to take me to your bed."

Another.

"Because I'm not letting you fuck me in your office."

Taking a moment to suck the plump fullness of Lexa's bottom lip, Clarke released it with a tiny pop.

"Do you want that?"

Lexa silently nodded again, the glaze of her eyes and lax hang of her face betraying the misfiring happening in her brain. 

The quiet chuckle that rumbled through Clarke's chest seemed to cut through the fog, Lexa lazily blinking back to alertness and straightening. 

"Yeah. Yes," Lexa croaked, clearing her throat as she took a quick step back. She reached down to slip her skirt back into place, swiping haphazardly at a few wrinkles before giving up entirely. "Yes. Let's go. Uuhhh..."

Biting her lip as a smile crept over her face, Clarke couldn't help but notice the awkward shuffle of Lexa's gate as she surreptitiously adjusted the mess of her underwear and finished pulling herself back together. Lexa fumbled through the sluggish mental cogs still churning themselves back to life, her feet pivoting this way and that before finally lurching to the side. 

"Belt," Lexa needlessly announced as she picked up the tossed item and shoved it in Clarke's general direction. Darting to the side of her desk, Lexa scooped up her purse and flung open a drawer as she rattled off items like a checklist. 

"Bag, phone. Uh, keys, keys, keys… keys!" she finally called out to no one in particular, holding them up in a triumphant fist as she strode toward the hook by the door and snatched up her coat.

Without another word, Lexa yanked the door open and swiftly stepped out before closing it with a resounding snap.

Clarke gaped at the closed door, breathing a puff of laughter after a moment as she folded her arms and leaned a hip on the desk beside her.

She got to roughly the count of ten when the door swung back open, a ruddy cheeked Lexa silently striding back through. 

"Forget something?" Clarke couldn't help herself. 

Apparently choosing not to dignify that with any sort of answer, Lexa marched back around her desk and grabbed Clarke's hand before turning and tugging them toward the door.

Taking pity, Clarke only allowed herself a brief hidden smile as she patiently trailed after.

  
  


////////

"Lex."

"Hm?" she hummed, lips still firmly pressed to supple skin. 

Clarke released a soft sigh, the breath of it caught somewhere between exasperation and pleasure. Her back pressed harder into grooves of wood she was pinned to, hands winding deeper in Lexa's wild mane of curls. 

"The door," she mumbled as Lexa rocked into her with a lazy roll of her hips.

Glassy eyed and disheveled, Lexa pulled away just far enough to bob her head in a nod before sinking back into the give of Clarke's lips. 

That was as far as they'd made it in the ten minutes since stumbling up the steps to Lexa's stoop. With a quick hand and pivot, Clarke had felt herself spun and walked backward, Lexa having pressed her to the front door of the house with hungry lips.

Clarke kissed her through her laughter, a warm zing bounding through her chest as the lips against hers stretched into an answering smile. 

"God, you feel good," Lexa whispered, tongue flicking at the bow of Clarke's mouth. 

"And yet, you won't open the damn door," Clarke said just as quietly, nudging Lexa's nose with her own and offering another taste. 

The pathetic sound of a whimper vibrated against her lips before Lexa wrenched away just long enough for her to focus and actually turn the key already in the lock. 

They stumbled as the door swung open, mouths searching and arms steady around Clarke's waist to anchor her as Lexa clumsily walked them through the threshold. A thud and a bang echoed through the small space as Lexa kicked the door shut behind her and yanked her coat off. Blindly reaching out, Clarke fumbled and flipped the lock as hands impatiently shoved her own coat over her shoulders. 

"Floor?"

"Lexa."

"Couch?"

_"Bed."_

"Picky."

"Shut up," Clarke grunted as they struggled to toe off shoes without loosening their hold on each other. 

Hands slid down the curve of her back, palming at the swell of her ass and lower. Fingers wrapped around Clarke's thighs and hoisted her up, Clarke releasing an inelegant yelp in surprise at suddenly being airborne. Her fingers dug into the flex of Lexa's shoulders as she wrapped her legs around the slim waist.

Staring down in startled shock, it took Clarke a moment to fully register the move. 

"Fuck," she exhaled as Lexa hitched her more securely in her grasp and made her way toward the stairs. "You're strong."

"Demon," Lexa absently reminded as she shifted Clarke's weight to one arm and wrapped the other in blonde curls. Clarke let herself be pulled back down into the messy press of Lexa's kiss, a moan rattling through her at the protective and possessive hold. 

Lexa's steps evened out as she reached the top of the stairs, fluidly setting Clarke down and moving to focus on the buttons of Clarke's blouse. 

Their arms tangled as they pulled and yanked at stubborn clothes, Clarke shuffling backward across the room under Lexa's insistent hands. With an impatient huff, Lexa pulled back to grab the hem of her own shirt from Clarke's grasp and yank it up over her head. 

Clarke stared at the expanse of skin on display, letting her eyes trail over Lexa more intently than before. Releasing a small laugh Clarke shook her head as Lexa pushed Clarke's blouse from her shoulders as well. 

"Do you seriously just… wear lingerie every day?"

"Yeah," Lexa airly said as she stepped forward. "Life's too short to wear shitty underwear."

"Aren't you immortal?"

"Technicalities. Can I take this off?"

The laugh died in Clarke's throat as Lexa skimmed the tips of her fingers over the swell of her breasts, her skin catching fire at the lingering touch. Swallowing back a wave of inexplicable nerves, Clarke reached behind herself and snapped open the clasp of her bra.

Lexa's eyes blew wide as she pulled the straps down her shoulders and tossed it to the side. She bit back the instinct to cover herself, arms dangling awkwardly at her sides as Lexa stared for a moment. 

And then a flurry of motion caught Clarke off-guard, the feel of Lexa surging into her sending Clarke stumbling further back into the room.

Warm lips pressed into another greedy kiss, Lexa gripping at her waist and hips. Clarke hurriedly reached down to fumble with the zip of Lexa's skirt before feeling the material go lax and fall away.

They jerked to a halt when Clarke's legs hit the back of something soft. The kiss disconnected with a pop as a hand pressed to the middle of her chest and pushed, sending Clarke toppling backwards onto pillowed, downy sheets. A surprised chuckle sprang from low in her chest as she bounced, eyes flying open and landing on the woman above her. 

And then she laughed more when she realized where Lexa's fiery gaze was trained. 

Lifting up on her elbows, Clarke couldn't help but grin even as her own vision wandered over the tight lines of Lexa's body wrapped in nothing but scraps of satin and lace. 

"You alright there, Lex?"

"Hm?"

"Enjoying yourself?" Clarke teased, arching her back in a way she new accentuated her… assets.

Eyes snapping back up, Clarke reveled in the faint blush that dappled sharp cheeks as Lexa gave a quick nod and stepped forward between her legs. 

"Yes," Lexa nodded earnestly, bracing her hands on Clarke's thighs and sliding along the length of them as she lowered to her knees. 

Lexa shuffled closer, her hands moving to the clasp of Clarke's skirt. With a quick glance upward, she undid the button and zip, hooking her fingers under the waist and tugging when Clarke obediently lifted her hips. Tossing them to the floor, Lexa was immediately back on her, hands caressing over the curves of her thighs, waist, and stomach. 

"You have no idea how long I have been thinking about having you like this. Laid out in my bed… So open for me," Lexa breathed as she dragged her lips over the slope of Clarke's thighs. 

Feeling the thrum of her neediness, Clarke sat up and shifted to the edge of the bed, cupping Lexa's face to guide her into a kiss. She let herself fall open to seeking hands and tongue, humming at the feel of wet silk massaging her own.

"I've been thinking about this too," she admitted between suckling draws from bee stung lips. "That goddamn picture… And this _mouth."_

Lexa's groan sang in Clarke's ears as she pulled back for a much needed breath, feeling Lexa move to kiss and nip along the straining muscles of her neck. Hands slid from her ribs and up to cup the fullness of Clarke's breasts, fingers gently squeezing and massaging as Lexa felt the weight and fullness of them.

"Fuck, I have wanted you. Thought about you so much," Lexa breathed before tipping forward. 

Clarke shivered as the rough silk of Lexa's tongue licked firm circles around the hardening bud, her hips jumping when the softness of full lips wrapped around her nipple and _sucked_. 

"Are you-" Clarke tried and then swallowed, hands moving to cup the back of Lexa's neck as teeth scraped and tongue lapped at her sensitive skin. "Are you talking to me or my-"

"Shhh, Clarke," Lexa quieted as she trailed messy kisses across her chest, recapturing the abandoned nipple in the cradle of her palm. "We're having a private moment."

"Oh my God," Clarke snorted despite herself, winding her hands deeper in brunette locks and holding Lexa in place all the same. 

A fresh pang of arousal shot through her as she watched Lexa work and tease her, flushed and swollen lips plucking at the hardened bud. 

Lexa shifted and kissed lower, hands swirling over the notches of her ribs and guiding Clarke to lay back. 

"Can I-" Lexa started and then stopped, the pause of her lips catching Clarke's attention more than the quiet of her words.

"What is it?" Clarke prompted after a moment, gently pulling Lexa face away from her belly where she had stilled. "Can you what?"

Blown seas of glittering black glanced up and then back down, their inky absence of color not even registering in Clarke's mind as hands never stopped their caressing of everything within reach. 

"Can I… my wings," Lexa whispered.

"... Oh."

"It's just," she started again, words halting and quiet as she resumed tonguing kisses along the jut of Clarke's hip bones. "It's more comfortable. Having them out. But if it'll ruin this, then I won't. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. It's just that they start to ache after a while and I-"

"Lexa," Clarke cut into the ramble being spoken directly into the crease of her thigh, working to make her brain function beyond the tickle of lips on skin. "... Yes."

Lexa faltered again before she turned to look upward. "... Yes?"

"Yes, you can," she soothed, running her hands through Lexa's fluffed, wild curls. "I promise, your wings won't make me uncomfortable."

"You're sure?" Lexa whispered as she nuzzled back into the comforting hand.

"Yeah," she smiled teasingly. "I won't run this time. Literally can't without a bra anyway."

Rolling her eyes, Lexa pinched at Clarke's waist and nipped at the skin below her bellybutton before lathing the mark with her tongue.

And then Clarke felt the hitch and quicken of ragged breath against her skin, lips never ceasing their path south even as Lexa seemed to coil and brace herself. Clarke sucked in a breath as she watched shoulder blades grow red and angry, painful looking welts rising to the surface of porcelain skin before cracking and splitting open.

Slowly, that inky ploom of feathers blossomed and unfurled, stretching toward the sky as they expanded. An intoxicating smokey-perfumed scent filled her senses as feathers flexed and fluffed, the overwhelming essence that was so intrinsically _Lexa_ growing stronger every minute. Clarke ran her hands in gentle passes along the strain of Lexa's shoulders as she groaned and buckled against her. 

A soft sigh punctuated Lexa all but collapsing into her.

"... That's better."

Before Clarke could begin to think of what to say, how to feel or react to everything she'd just witnessed so intimately close, Lexa took control again. Hands slid down over the dips of her sides, fingers tucking intently into the top of Clarke's underwear. Instinctively raising her hips, she nearly yelped at feeling incredible warmth through the soft cotton of her panties. 

"Fuck, Lex," Clarke groaned, her head flying up at the sensation. 

Two pools of black glittered from between her legs as Lexa sucked open mouth kisses through the thin cotton. Her hips trembled and jumped at the teasing touch, Clarke biting painfully at her lip as Lexa began pulling the fabric downward. 

Stopping only long enough to pull soaked underwear past the swell of Clarke's hips, Lexa dropped her mouth back to the newly revealed skin. 

The moan that tore through Clarke mirrored the one rumbled below, watching as onyx eyes fluttered at the first taste of her. Clarke's skin blazed and her back bowed at the hot, wet seal of Lexa's mouth taking her in with wide mouthed kisses that were all lips and tongue. The drag of plump lips and slip of slick tongue had Clarke thighs falling open wider, finally kicking the dangling garment from her legs and allowing Clarke to offer herself entirely to Lexa's whim. 

Swallowing a pained keen, Clarke breathed in labored breaths as Lexa abruptly pulled away. 

"Lex-"

"Fuck, you taste you good," Lexa groaned. She stood with a fluid grace, Clarke's breath catching at the sight of the beautiful creature looming over her. Black wings stretched full at her sides, Lexa moved to kneel on the bed between Clarke's thighs. 

Guiding Clarke backward to lay down, Lexa rested a hand at the small of her back, the other gently cradling her head as she swallowed her in a kiss. She couldn't help the moan from tasting herself on those lips. 

"Wrap your legs around me, gorgeous."

Clarke could only stifle a whimper into the incessant press of Lexa's mouth, nodding as she did as she was told. She felt herself lifted, the firm grip of Lexa's arms sending molten pangs of want through her core. The sway of her body as Lexa shuffled them more securely onto the bed had Clarke biting at her lip, her hips unconsciously rocking against the plain of Lexa's belly and painting her with a thick slip of arousal. 

She shuddered, legs tightening around plush hips and holding her in place as Lexa settled Clarke against the bed's numerous pillows. "God, Lex. I need-"

"I know," Lexa hummed into her lips. "You feel so good… Better than I even imagined."

The knowledge of Lexa thinking about her like this seared through Clarke's body, skin flushing with wanton heat at imagining the woman fantasizing about her. Clarke's heels dug deeper at the welcomed weight draped over her, the feel of bellies and breasts pressing together sending another shiver through Clarke's spin. 

Because Lexa was so _soft._

The curves and supple skin rounding every sharp edge of her toned body. 

Clarke gave herself over to deepening kisses, shuddering as Lexa lapped and sucked at her tongue. Her hands clung to the hips rocking into her, eager to touch and be touched everywhere she needed. Gliding over the lace covered cheeks of Lexa's ass, Clarke squeezed and pulled her in roughly, gasping at the slip of skin against her aching clit.

"Wait," Lexa yanked away from the kiss as Clarke's hands slid up past the dip of her back, Clarke's fingers barely brushing the downy soft tips of feathers before being pulled away. 

Hands wrapped around her wrists, guiding them to the bed and pinning her there. Eyes snapping open, Clarke scowled at the haughty tilt of Lexa's smirk.

"I thought we agreed this is my turn," Lexa said, the rough and sultry curl of her words making Clarke's head feel fuzzy. 

"I don't remember agreeing to that." Clarke gave a half-hearted yank of her arms, a dark thrill zinging through her as fingers tightened their hold. 

Lexa leaned in close, her nose brushing at Clarke's and lips ghosting against her own as she spoke. "Just let me touch you… Let me give this to you… _Please."_

She couldn't quite understand exactly what that meant, the scrambled particles of her brain trying to decipher whether Lexa was referring to herself or an orgasm. Not that it particularly mattered with the way Lexa licked a blistering path across her lower lip, the whispered moan against Clarke's mouth sounding wanton and begging. 

Clarke shuddered and slowly nodded as Lexa shifted against her once more. With a final squeeze of her hands, Lexa moved to sit up on her heels, a self-indulgent smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

Coal shaded eyes roved over the full expanse of her, Clarke practically squirming under the hunger in their intense gaze. 

"You look… so fucking sexy like this," Lexa breathed as she shuffled backward on her knees. "In my head, I thought nothing could beat the thought of you bent over my desk, but-"

Clarke hissed as she clenched and hips jumped at the words, her own mind filling with images from dreams gone by. Lexa froze for a second, mouth dropping open slightly before pulling into a dangerous smirk. 

_"Ms. Griffin,"_ she whispered in scandalized chiding as her wings seemed to fluff themselves fuller. "Have you been thinking about _fucking_ at work?"

Scoffing, Clarke ignored the renewed blush creeping up her neck. "Lexa," she huffed and shook her head. "Don't- You already said you can feel it when I do."

"But I never know _what_ you're thinking about," Lexa said, biting her lip with a pleased grin as she ran her hands along Clarke's thighs. "Just that you're turned on."

"... You know what I think about."

"I wanna hear you say it."

Waging a quick internal war between aggravation and need, Clarke sighed as the arousal coursing through flared at the sight of Lexa's elegantly lifted brow.

"... I've thought about you fucking me in a lot of places… In a lot of different ways," Clarke admitted, feeling a dark twist of arousal at the broken croak of her own words. "Mostly in my dreams. But throughout the day, too… Sometimes you'll walk past me, or look at me the way you do, and it's all I can do to not come while you watch."

The smile slipped from Lexa's lips as she silently listened, her throat bobbing in a dry swallow as her black eyes blazed in a molten stare. Clarke burned at the feel of Lexa's hands gripping her, long fingers unconsciously squeezing in rhythmic pulses around the swell of Clarke's thighs. 

"I've dreamed about you having me bent over your desk, like you said… My skirt pulled over my ass as you fuck me from behind… Wondered if I'd prefer you to use two fingers, or three… what it would take to feel you stretch me." 

She pulled her hands down without thinking, sighing as she let them wander over her body as she spoke. 

"I've thought about walking into your office, and just… _Fuck._ Begging for it... Especially when you're wearing one of those goddamn suits."

"You like those?" Lexa muttered, glazed over eyes following the path of Clarke's hands.

"Mhm," Clarke moaned and sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers slid up to pinch the stiff peak of her nipples. "The way you look in them, it drives me crazy. Every time I just want to pin to your chair. Pull those tight pants down and turn you into a mess… I've pictured kneeling between your legs as you hold yourself open for me. Thought about how anyone could walk in and see me making you come in your own office."

 _"Fuck,_ Clarke."

"Lex."

A strangled growl erupted from deep in Lexa's throat as hands wrapped around the back of Clarke's knees. Letting out a surprised chirp, Clarke felt herself yanked further down the bed. Lexa shuffled to lay flat on her stomach, slipping her hands under Clarke's thighs and spreading her open to lick a broad stroke through Clarke's folds.

"Fucking hell," Clarke moaned, hands flying down to grab fistfuls of brown hair. 

The wet shlick of Lexa's mouth filled her ears along a low purr just loud enough for Clarke to feel more than hear. The symphony of sounds caused a furious blush to explode across her chest, whether from the obvious abundance of her arousal or Lexa's ardently vocal appreciation, Clarke couldn't find the mental faculties to say.

All she knew was that she had never been taken like that before, so intensely and with such fervor; toes curling and back breaking under every lick, every suck, every flick. It felt messy, and overwhelming, in deliciously sinful ways, her breath hitching with each lap of Lexa's tongue.

Nose pressed to the wiry patch of darkened blonde curls, Lexa moved her mouth over every inch of sensitive skin. She licked in firm strokes along petaled folds, tracing up and then down, before twisting with teasing flicks. Lexa dipped lower, humming as she ghosted the tip of her tongue over the source of Clarke's flavor, Clarke whining each time she'd push just enough to begin to slip inside, before torturously dancing away. 

A hand released its grip on Clarke's thigh, instead smoothing up and over her ribs to cup her breast, Lexa pressing the pad of her thumb to pebbled skin and rolling the nipple in circles. Clarke's head lulled back as fingers pinched and plucked at her tits in tandem with the lips wrapped around her clit. Her body buzzed with the build of her orgasm, the swell of it shaking along her spine and shooting down through her core. 

One hand fisted in rumpled and mussed chestnut, the other grasped for the one at her breast, a moan catching in her throat as Lexa slipped her fingers between her own. 

Her breath hiccupped and heart pounded as Clarke felt the knock of Lexa's tongue at her entrance, her muscles clenching in want as the slick-silken heat relented and slipped inside. Her hips bucked as she _ground_ herself against Lexa's face, stars and galaxies popping behind her eyes as a thumb took over teasing the sensitive head of her clit. 

"Oh fuck, fuck, _fuck,"_ Clarke breathily chanted as her body tripped over the edge, her mouth and thighs clamping shut as she trembled with the aching pleasure of it. 

The vibrations of a moan rumbled through her skin, the feeling of it like a shot to the head. Her muscles clamped down and then snapped in euphoric clenches as she came with a keening groan around the silk of Lexa's tongue. 

As the final echo of release washed over her, Clarke let go of her limp grip on sweaty curls to nudge Lexa away when she started to grow too sensitive. Splayed spread eagle over the damp expanse of Lexa's bed, Clarke barely registered the delicate movement of Lexa's hands, only managing a weak sound of dissent as fingers pulled from her grip. 

Eyes still closed in her warm post-orgasm bliss, she couldn't be bothered to pay attention as Lexa moved around her. Clarke felt herself lifted and slid further up the bed, her head coming to rest on the soft fluff of a pillow once again. 

Clarke vaguely registered the weight draping across her waist as knees settled on either side of her hips. The twangy scent of arousal filled her senses as plump lips pecked and nibbled at her own. She hummed at the sticky taste coating Lexa's mouth, the slick of Clarke's orgasm still thick on her tongue. Lexa kissed her in long and deep strokes, the feel of it almost as messy as the sex itself. Smearing the lingering wetness from her chin across Clarke's lips before sucking them clean, Clarke stayed rapturously pliant under her ministrations as Lexa seemed intent on tasting every drop she could get.

"I want to do that again, and again, and again," Lexa moaned and pulled away as her hands moved to tenderly cup Clarke's face in her palms. "You are so beautiful when you come," Lexa whispered reverently.

Eyes fluttered open, Clarke struggled to swallow around the dryness of her throat as she grinned up at the awe-stricken face. 

"Well that definitely feels good for my ego at least."

Lexa's obsidian stare burned into her as the curtain of her curls swung with the shake of her head. "No, it's-", her voice ragged and throaty as she lifted up onto her palms. "It's more than that. The… joy on your face," she continued, seeming to struggle for words. "It's amazing, Clarke. I almost came just watching you. Feeling you."

Clarke felt a slice of shyness take over, the softness of Lexa's words not at all falling in line with the usual afterglow of vigorous, emotionless, hookup sex. 

Which… was what this was supposed to be.

Shaking it off, Clarke did her best to hitch an easy and placating smile on her face. "Is that right?" she hummed, letting her hands settle on the curve of Lexa's waist. 

"I can feel it," Lexa exhaled. "When you come. Fuck, Clarke, I can feel that too."

"You can feel me?"

Biting so hard her lip nearly turned white, Lexa nodded, her wild curls bobbing as she rocked her hips. "I felt everything, all of you… It's like that day in the office. _Fuck,_ that's what I felt... I'm so close, gorgeous," she groaned as she fumbled for Clarke's hand. _"Please."_

Before Clarke could ask what she was pleading for, she felt her palm being pressed to the top of Lexa's mound. Black eyes rolled in Lexa's head as Clarke cupped the wet heat, Clarke finally noticing the quiver of shaking muscles as Lexa sat up. 

Clarke's stomach twisted with renewed hunger at the sight above her, her mind finally snapping back to awareness. Sometime between the heavenly exultation of her orgasm and subsequent return to Earth, Lexa had managed to shed the final scraps of lace from her body. 

And the effect of her nakedness was devastating. 

Wings stretched and flared out as Lexa rocked into her hand, framing her in their midnight-shaded plume. The fluid roll of her toned stomach was hypnotic as Lexa slowly rode the palm blindly cupping her. She looked heavenly, and lethal, the inky pools of her eyes blowing wider with each predatory blink. 

"Clarke," Lexa all but whined, her hands moving to tweak and massage achingly taut nipples. The image of Lexa palming her own breasts as she helplessly rocked against her was a vision Clarke knew she'd never forget.

Mind jumping to life, Clarke pushed herself to sit up a little further on the pillows, wrapping a hand around Lexa's hip to urge her to follow. Pulling Lexa into the cradle of her lap, Clarke slipped her hand more firmly along the length of her folds to feel how soaked she was. 

"God, you're _soaked,_ Lex," she husked, hissing in reciprocal want at a fresh gush of arousal. "All this just from fucking me?"

The breath rushed from Clarke's lungs as she pressed against the ring of muscles, the tiniest bit of pressure letting her slip two fingers inside. A low growl tore through the air as Lexa's hands scrambled to cling to Clarke's shoulders as she pushed the rest of the way inside. 

Hands cradled her neck as Lexa captured her lips in a breathless kiss and fucked herself on Clarke's fingers. Clarke tried to reign in the wild buck of Lexa's hips, tried to set a rhythm to help her get off, but Lexa seemed too caught up to care. She thrust as deep as she could, the unrelenting grind of Lexa's hips making it almost impossible to move away as Lexa drove herself closer to the edge. 

With each curl of her fingers Clarke stroked the spot that made Lexa shiver and jerk, Clarke aching at the feel of clinging muscles gripping her. Hips juddered out of the sloppy rhythm as Lexa's breath caught in her throat.

"I'm gonna come, fuck," Lexa keened as she pulled away from the kiss, wrapping her arms around Clarke's shoulders in a desperate hold as she buried her face in the crook of her neck.

And then knees locked around Clarke's hips as Lexa's entire body pulled like a string, Clarke's mouth opening in a silent, pained yell as the muscles around her fingers clenched down and _squeezed._ She breathed through the pain as Lexa shook against her, Clarke deciding that feeling the warm rush of come around her fingers more than made up for any bone-crushing discomfort. 

She still made a mental note to be a bit more careful with the whole 'demon strength orgasm' and her fingers next time.

Lexa slowly relaxed in small tremors and growled hums, the vibrations of what sounded like a deep-chested purr rumbling through the arch of Clarke's ribs. Clarke basked in the violence of Lexa's pleasure; a gorgeous kind of destruction, all of her own making. She held the wild thing in her arms through the fire and brimstone of her orgasm, breathing in the smoke of her aftershocks and feeling them as if they were her own. 

Sweat puddled and cooled across Clarke's skin as silence fell around them, feeling residual shakes rack the body pressed so tightly against her, their chests sliding together with every breath. A smile tugged at her mouth as she felt lips begin to peck at her neck.

Tipping them over, Lexa finally retreated from her haven in the bend of Clarke's shoulder to flop onto her back and stare up at the ceiling. Clarke rolled onto her side, mindful of splayed wings as she lifted up onto an elbow, grinning with a wicked sense of satisfaction at the dopey glaze settled on Lexa's face.

"Ya gonna be alright there, slugger?"

Blowing a noisy breath through lax lips, two sparkling meadows turned to look at her with wide-eyed amusement. 

"Well," Lexa laughed with a lazy grin. "That was certainly friendly."

/////////////

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! Please let me know what you think, kudos and comments make me cry happy tears. Feel free to hit me up on tumblr @ butmakeitgayblog 💜


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